Every Small Fear
by Holfyy
Summary: When Nova Unthank (OC) turns up at the Sanctuary one day, Charlie and her both struggle with old feelings they thought they'd left firmly behind. But they will both have to confront their past and come together in order to fight what's ahead. Themes of anxiety/depression. Set post Hogwarts, CW timeline, with Hogwarts flashbacks.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Nova Unthank stood behind the defensive charm of the reservation, gazing out hesitantly across parent mountains with their snowy white peaks and their children of green rolling valleys before her. Tall, lush, green trees as far as the eye could see covered the land. Just another small step would take her past that invisible wall and reveal openings within the foliage, where enclosures and small villages were nestled.

She had magicked her trunk to about the size of a jewellery box and attached it to the end of her broom, which she held a little too tightly in one hand. It was a Firebolt. She had no need of such a fast broom, but whatever money she had left at the end of each month was spent on ways to make her life easier. The firebolt had taken some saving up for, but she was grateful for its speed and comfort. She reckoned if she was going to be flying longer distances, she might as well have been comfortable doing it.

Nova's other hand flexed open and closed. The skin on her bottom lip was stinging from the amount of biting it, her palms clammy under the fingerless riding gloves. The day was late, and a slow dusk was revealing a dimming of watercolours on the horizon as she scuffed one foot, then the other, against the stony earth of the valley bluff she'd landed on. Half of her actions were subconscious, natural and instinctive, and yet the other half was so over-thought and careful it was if she were tied between two worlds in her head. This see-sawing quality meant she was easily adaptable and quick to learn, changing her colours like a salamander, and there was an ease to her efficiency that belied her nervousness and meant she'd been a credit to her house. However, her endless flitting and ability to adapt was such that she had never landed on anything _she_ had wanted to do, only what others saw in her. This hadn't changed much since her young years, and over time had developed so that every emotion was internalised first and worried over second. Not many people at school had known her truly because of that wall, and fewer still knew of the skills that had brought her to study at Hogwarts.

That was why she was here. Only now, now that You-Know-Who was officially declared _returned _and war imminent that she was able to make those gifts a priority in her life. Sure, she might have lied a little to the Ministry to get here, but what could you expect from a Slytherin? The Ministry was corrupt enough these days to worry about an employee of her rank jumping ship. The opportunity might not present itself again, and Nova had to be honest with herself. This might have been the last chance. To run. To live a life she deemed worthy.  
And so, Nova Unthank was determined in spite of the fear. There was no going back. As she looked over the dusk covered valley, about to step across the border into a new life, it occurred to her that whatever would come, it was a damn sight better than her old job, that was for sure. Still, a feeling similar to nausea was threatening to creep up her throat. She swallowed it down, continuing to flex her hand subconsciously, and tightened the dark green scaled travel cloak around her neck.

Looking across to the setting sun, Nova was grateful she'd chosen to fly from the nearest town she'd apparated to. She could have apparated straight to the gates, but she needed the time and space flying allowed her to prepare. It was just a bonus that the view was beautiful; even if the breeze had been brisk on her skin, the sun had blessed her with its warmth. She was always calmer on her own. She cherished the last two hours of her isolation, before committing to close enclosures of humans and...It made her breath a little shallow. She was about to see, work, maybe even touch a dragon for the first time. _Get yourself killed in doing so, maybe? _She'd been begging for a transfer out of the Mysteries for years, and even though the Ministry didn't understand why she'd leave her position, she suspected they'd only allowed her to go so that they'd have an "inside woman" at the reservation, despite her not wanting to be a piece in their game of wizards chess.  
There had been whispers around the department for years about what had been going on at Hogwarts, but now Fudge finally admitting that _He _was indeed _back, _only meant his desire for the reigns to be tightened, and for Cornelius the Sanctuary was just another weapon Dumbledore would try to use. Nova sighed to herself. She had no desire to become a spy for Fudge. Nova hadn't refused, but neither did she have to tell them anything.

Nova made as if to start, but her body didn't move from the spot. The growing worry that she would fail made her breath short and her chest tight, but the desire to achieve more than other peoples' bidding at the Ministry was more motivation than she'd ever needed. She didn't want to go back, but moving forwards was terrifying. She readied herself, chewing her lip, her face hardening. Just one step through, and into somewhere completely different. To somewhere she could breath. Maybe even sit out the war. Maybe _make a difference_.  
At that very moment, her thoughts raced back to a moment of different first step.

It gave her courage.  
When everything was made different.

_I can do this._

* * *

'_Ow,'_

A small, auburn haired girl was being jostled to and fro on the space between platform 9 and platform 10, holding herself against indifferent Londoners. Busy commuters rushed past, her parents standing behind her, arguing in mutters as if she couldn't hear them.

'I told you, it's all a big joke. This isn't _right_. I _told_ you-'

"Carla if you don't be quiet right now, I swear to Jesus-"

"_I swear to Jesus to myself, _if this is just a big prank it's going to break her heart!" her Mum whispered behind her. Nova felt a heavy hand squeeze her shoulder. There was an interesting feeling in her stomach, one she hadn't felt before. It made her want to cry, vomit, and leap with excitement at the same time. It was like calmness and worry were fighting each other for first place. The weight of her Dad's hand on her shoulder made her feel safe though, until the prospect of leaving them both for four months made her want to turn and run away and chalk it all down to a joke, just like her Mum said. It would hurt, but it would certainly be the easier option.  
But what if it wasn't? What if this place, Hogwarts, _was_ real?

"Let's just wait a few more minutes before we ask someone…Maybe somebody will find _us_."

Another squeeze.

Nova's eyes darted around, looking for a sign, _any_ sign at all. Her parents, in an attempt to be cautious, hadn't bought her any of the school things that they were told to on the letter. It was if by complying it would make it less real somehow. They tried visiting the place, Diagon Alley, but ended up confused and shouting at each other when their directions landed them outside an abandoned tavern. They had gone home, not wanting to ask for fear of sounding "_completely mental."_ Her Dad had tried again, convinced they'd gotten it wrong. Said he had a feeling. Had taken her on a second secret outing, but still to no avail. He had tried to hide his frustration in order to spare her feelings, but Nova had been so disappointed she had cried herself to sleep for seven whole nights. She couldn't bear the not knowing, so it was all she could do to convince them to take her to the station, just to see.

So what if it _was _real? _It had to be. _The things on the letter…on _both_ of them! This man, the Headmaster Dumbledore, he knew things about her that only her close family did. Her way with animals, the way things moved on their own when she looked at them, the way she knew what people were thinking sometimes…The time she had seemed to read her uncle's mind, in front of everyone, and explained that, '_no, he didn't like Aunt Billie's fruitcake better than Carla's, it was as dry as their sex life.' _She could still remember the confusion, the look of horror on Uncle Victor's face, on everyone else's face. Her Dad had barked a laugh, crumbs of said fruitcake flying out of his mouth like miniature torpedoes.

So it had to be true. She was still young enough that the idea of magic seemed entirely plausible. Her parents had argued about the things they'd seen their daughter do too, her Dad firmly believing she was special, and her Mum worried she'd be bullied for it. Then the letter came. It was like a confirmation of everything she'd felt. And so here they were. _Just to see_.

"Dad?" she asked with keen but quiet, melodic voice.

"Yes sparky?" he replied, his head bending round to her level. He'd called her that after she started displaying the uncanny ability to turn the lights off when she was in any heightened mood, which was becoming more frequent as she'd gotten older.

"If it _is_ true, if the letter was right…All the things I'd need…I don't have _anything_!" she panicked, causing a little movement from inside her backpack. She'd brought one _just in case_ filled with her favourite clothes, a drawing pad, a toothbrush (_Did they have toothpaste in the wizarding world? Or did they have some kind of spell?) _and in the front section curled among bags of raw vegetables, her pet Ferret, Polar. She'd called him that because he was snow white and reminded her of the bear. He didn't mind anyway, he seemed quite fond of being named after a large carnivore. She'd rescued him as a baby from their garden as he'd quivered from a murder of crows, and guessed that the honour of being called a bears name was a rather important one in the animal world.

"All you truly need is what's in here,' he replied as her Mum sighed behind her, his finger pointing to her head. "You've done so many amazing things! Even if you don't have a- a _wand_, just yet anyway, we'll figure it out. There's nothing that we can't fix. And even if this is all a silly joke from your Uncle, that doesn't change anything. All your power is in here, don't forget that."

Nova smiled up at her Dad, just as an interested noise of approval come immediately from her left, causing her to squeak a little. Before her stood an elderly man with a green velvet jacket and matching trousers, black and white pinstriped shoes, and what _looked _like a crocodile overcoat with a matching velvet bowler hat. He was the most ridiculous, fun looking Grandpa she'd ever seen. Her eyes must have given her away, because as she looked on in wonder he did a small bow, causing her to blush and look elsewhere. She noticed he was carrying a black cane embossed with silver vines and owls, and behind him a dark haired, grumpy looking young girl about her age lingered, pulling a big trunk with an all black _owl _sitting in a cage on top.

"_Dad! Look!" _ she exclaimed, punching him in the side. She gawped up at her parents' faces, which were hanging with their mouths slightly open. _Probably his suit,_ Nova thought with a small smile, but she couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful owl.

"Good morning! You look like a non-wizarding family, if you don't mind my saying so?" At this, the old man subtly pulled the silver owl head top of his cane up slightly to reveal a straight, black wand attached. "Do you need some assistance?" the old man asked, now resting slightly on his walking stick. Nova's eyes darted at the ground as she looked at the girl again who was smirking. When Nova didn't reply, her Dad did it for her. He was her defender, her guardian, her constant encouragement. With each moment though, the magical reality was dawning on her, and she was _terrified._ Her Mum, who was really just like her- anxious, shy, not great with others (although she must have learned with age how to interact on a socially superficial level)- must have been too shell-shocked to speak.

Nova could hear the grin in her Dad's voice as he confirmed that, yes, they were _non-wizarding_, and they had no clue how to find this Platform 9 and 3/4. Nova continued to stare at the floor, every now and again choosing to look at the girls owl, which looked at her intently with hooded eyes. Well, it was daylight after all. He must be exhausted, with all this noise going on around him. While the old man introduced himself as '_Critellus Blackjoy, a pleasure. This is my granddaughter, Nigella_, _you're both first years…'  
_Nova only listened slightly as she edged slowly toward the owl, offering a very small, almost imperceptible smile of permission at the girl who watched her curiously before nodding. She reached her finger out to the owl as Nigella warned her, "He likes to bite people-"  
Well, Nova knew he would. Sometimes animals had to test whether they could trust the other living thing, and usually that meant they'd lash out in defense first. She had enough bites on her fingers to have learned that. But when he did eventually nip her, as Nigella tutted, the rest of them quietened as Nova remained completely still, even as a droplet of blood spilled from her finger. She didn't scream or pull back, even though it hurt a little. The owl twisted its neck curiously at her, before edging closer and allowing her to stroke him through the bars of his cage. Nigella stood open mouthed and spoke resentfully. "He's never, ever let anyone stroke him like that, apart from _me _and _Grandpa!"_

Nova looked up, beaming that she'd made a new friend in the owl, and then looked at Nigella, which diffused her excitement and sucked her finger, casting her eyes down again at her trainers and standing before her parents.

Once Critellus had taught them how to enter the platform, he left them to it _to experience on their own_, after showing them how to run into the barrier, of course. He warned they'd have until five minutes to eleven, but since they'd arrived in good time, '_as all well prepared folk often do,'_ they had plenty of time to enjoy it. The irony that they were the least prepared of all those in the station was not lost on her parents, but they smiled on again regardless.

She gazed at the barrier, looking nervously at Nigella before looking out at the other trains, and then watching their backs disappear into the brickwork. Her Mum gasped behind her.

"_This is so cool!"_ she squealed once they were alone again. Her Dad looked down at her with tears in his eyes.

"All my young years, I'd wished I was special. Used to stare at rocks wishing they'd move. I knew I was good for something but it wasn't this. I was good for one thing though, and that was raising you." He grasped Nova by the shoulders, who looked up tearily at her Mother, who was also trying hard not to cry. She bolstered herself against her tears with the courage of her small family as her Dad made the first move. "Shall we do this, then?"

Nova nodded with a grin, grasping the straps of her backpack, which rumbled slightly before a white face poked forcefully out of the zippered front pouch. It climbed up the bag and circled around her neck, resting to face forward with her. It nuzzled her chin gently, comfortingly, sensing her infusion of worry and excitement. Her left hand flexed open, closed, open and closed, before she spoke softly. "Okay, Polar, let's see if we can do this."

The exhilarating rush of walking through a solid brick wall was unlike any other; one minute she was surrounded by the smoke and smog of engines and hollering people, and the next, standing amidst a cataclysm of owl hoots, meowing cats, children her age shouting and laughing, all looking the same mixture of excitement and fear. Some were crying, some were jumping straight on the train. The smell of engine smoke billowing from the front and into the platform hit her full in the face as the sight of trolleys piled high with towering trunks and cages in front of the train.  
Oh, the _train. _It sat majestically in the platform, embossed with gold and seeming to glow a dark red. The doors were slid open and welcoming the students onboard. There was no doubt at all now that it was _real. _She wandered forward, before hearing a _whoosh_ and her parents exclaiming, "_Jesus bloody Christ!" _She turned to face them with an enormous grin. She laughed before catching the eye of a bright eyed boy with a widish nose and messy red hair looking at her curiously, surrounded by other red haired children, most of them younger and tugging at his clothes. Her face snapped back to a stony impasse as she turned away and back to her parents.

"But, my things? What should we do?" Her face dropped. The realisation sunk in. All these other kids she saw, some of them had long cloak like dresses on, what she assumed to be the robes she was _supposed_ to have…They had pets, trunks, probably filled with all their books they'd need for learning. And they had _wands_. One girl with electric blue hair was swishing hers about wildly and causing sparks to fly, her parents chastising her and telling her to put it away before she broke it. One of the parents looked a little out of place, like her own, while her Mother seemed very at ease. The girl laughed at Nova, who blushed, unable to not smile back.  
It was _magic._

There was a loud hoot from behind her that made her turn her head. Atop the carriage facing her was a barn owl, twisting its neck at her with a package in its feet and a letter in its beak. It looked a little tired, almost a little fed up, but held the package as if it weighed nothing at all. It flew toward her, dropping its bundle at her feet and landing on her shoulder, much to her Mum's scandalised cries and her Dad's bark of laughter. It dropped the letter into her hands, nudged her face and hooted fiercely at Polar, who, upon seeing the incoming bird took refuge in the hood of her sweater and hissed from within it. The owl then promptly spread its magnificent wings and took off down the platform and into the open air.  
Unfolding the old looking paper (it certainly wasn't bought at Stationary Box, that she was certain of), she broke a seal that had been on that first letter of acceptance, and read the words that were scrawled across the page.

_Miss Unthank,_

_I am so glad you and your parents decided to see if I wasn't joking. I am rather fond of jokes myself. I am, however, thoroughly delighted to inform you that this world and our school is indeed real, and so I welcome to the other side! Upon hearing that you had not made it to Diagon Alley, I suspected that we at Hogwarts had neglected to give you the proper information as to how to access our infamous street, although I do say it bears no majesty to Oxford Circus. Truly magical, as I'm sure you'll agree._

_Anyhow, I apologise wholeheartedly for our oversight. But please do not fret! We have arranged all of your books in a trunk onboard, and one of my owls will have delivered your robes to you with this letter. Consider these things a gift, if you will, to celebrate the start of this wonderful adventure. Yourself and Polar will be joined with everything in your dormitory after Sorting._

_I truly look forward to making his acquaintance. I expect he doesn't like sherbet lemons, but I think I will have some carrots lying around. One should never be too far from fresh vegetables._

_As for your wand, you can borrow one until you are at leisure to meet your own. This is a very special experience for any young witch or wizard, and I would recommend you do this as soon as you and your family are able. _

_Enjoy your journey, Miss Unthank. Ah, if only I could do it for the first time all over again!_

_Yours faithfully,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore._

Nova could barely contain herself. Shoving the letter into her parents hands, she ripped open the brown paper package to reveal long black robes with a Hogwarts emblem and a little pointy hat. Polar re-emerged from her hood as the coast became clear, reaching forward to sniff the robes and circle her neck once more. "No hat for you, Polar, but a big hood for you to hide in," she said quietly, scratching the top of his head.

She looked up and found the red haired boy looking at her again, although he seemed to be looking more at Polar than at her, which was a relief of sorts. Her parents were both smiling when she looked back at them, but both had tears careening down their cheeks. Her Dad was doing his best to contain it but failed miserably.

"I wish we knew someone here, so you weren't alone," her Mum said quietly, wiping away tears on Nova's face that she only just realised were on her cheeks. Her Dad nudged Carla with an elbow, seeing his daughters face fall.

"Don't worry, sparks. Look at all these kids, they're all in the same boat. Looks like nobody really knows each other. Plenty of friends to make," he smiled, crouching down on the floor, "And you know, they're all like you. That man there, well, he looks like one of us. A _muggle," _Jack looked slightly uncertain as he said the word, but so sincere it might have made Nova cry all over again. "Maybe you could talk to their daughter?"

He nodded over to where the girl with the blue hair-wait, _it was red now!_ Nova blinked to confirm that it _was_ the same girl, but her hair had changed colour. How was that possible? The girls Father was ringing a hat in his hands while her Mother laughed at him. Before Nova knew it the girl had crashed into her in half a dance and half tumble.. "Be _careful_, Nymphadora!"

The girl had bright, mischievous eyes, and they too seemed to change colour in the light. She cast a dark look at her Mother, sighing, "Mum, please can you _not _call me that! It's so embarrassing!"

Nymphadora kicked the floor while her parents introduced themselves to hers.

"I think-uh, I think that's a cool name, actually," Nova said quietly, her face burning. The girl with the short red hair looked comically at her. Something about this girl frightened her less than Nigella. She was so open and confident and her attitude was infectious; she grinned at Nova.

"Thanks, but you can call me Tonks. I prefer it, anyway! What's your name?" she asked, staring at her with alert eyes.

"Nova Unthank," she replied, more confident than she'd been all day. She got a strong feeling of kindness from Tonks. It made her feel brighter, like bright light through a church window pane, and a little less anxious about leaving her parents behind. She trusted her instinct without understanding it. Tonks seemed unconcerned with being embarrassed, and that strengthened her a little, as though she didn't have to worry with her. Nova had a feeling she'd have to do a lot of that; telling herself to be brave. She didn't see the point in being anything else now, not when she had no idea what the future held. It was the only way forward that she could see.

Tonks' eyes widened at the sound of her name, smiling broadly. "Now _that_ is a cool name! Nova Unthank, huh. Very witchy! So what house are you hoping to be in?"

House? She hadn't thought about houses. She didn't know about any o f them, only that there were four, and she'd be sorted into one with some kind of hat. It was all very bizarre. She felt sick again at how unprepared she was, but when she explained this to Tonks, the girl put her arm around her,"_Would you like to sit with me?",_ and promised to explain everything on the train. Her own Father was a _muggle_, so she understood a thing or two about how it was to grow up between worlds.

Before she knew it, Nova was standing inside the carriage of the train, tears choking her as she said goodbye to her parents. She didn't want them to see her cry. She knew if they did, they would worry. Of course, she knew she'd see them again; even if she didn't miss them at all, it was only a few months until Christmas.

Even so, it was hard to leave them. Now it was just her.  
They promised to write, calling to enjoy herself. Her Dad shouted, "_I'm so proud of you!_" to many a bemused and sympathetic face on back on the platform. As the train started to pull off, Tonks waved madly at her own family and without further adieu pulled Nova into the crowded corridor of the train without giving her a chance to think. Nova wasn't half looking forward to seeing the school, but she couldn't imagine a life without her parents around. Being-she had to admit it now- _magical,_ made her seem strange to others, she was used to always playing on her own. She was quite happy to, if she was honest. But maybe this time, this time it would be different? The anxiety she once felt about being teased was now transforming into something like pride. Thoughts ricocheted off the walls of her brain just like she bounced off the sides of the carriage, but she held her robes tightly in her hands, Polar sternly and reassuringly looking out and made small hissing noises at anyone that got too close. She'd been so in her head that she didn't notice a different girl smiling brightly back at her, with small blue eyes and black hair.  
"Sorry, um, hi, but...where did Tonks go?"

The girl laughed. It was the same laugh, just like Tonks'. Nova must have looked confused.

"I should explain," the girl started, her features changing like water changing the paint on a canvas, back to the pixie-ish ones Nova had just met back in the station. "I'm a metamorphmagus. It's in the family. I can change my appearance, kinda like a chameleon, you know? Those lizards?" Tonks continued to lead her down the passage, Nova trying to accumulate everything she was learning without going into shock. "Well anyway, I'm getting better at controlling it, but Mum tells me I'll keep reflecting my emotions until I do, but I can't! It's too exciting!"

Tonks continued to chirp bits of information over her shoulder at Nova, all the while leading them through crowds of students of different ages who all seemed to glance at the little muggle and her backpack with the ferret round her neck. Nova avoided their eye contact by looking inside a compartment. Two red haired boys were sat amongst a few other students, one of which looked slightly older than the other, a little more handsome with a confidence that made Nova blush. The eldest smiled confidently, making her look sideways at the younger of the two. He was the same boy from the platform, and he looked a little overwhelmed by the company. Nevertheless he beamed at her, or rather at her neck again.

"What are you lot looking at?" Tonks reared belligerently to the students in the corridor. Nova stood quietly and darkly behind her shoulder. "_You never seen a witch before?_"

Hair turning back to a fiery red, Tonks walked through a gap the students had made as they laughed a little in surprise, doffing imaginary caps to the bold first year and smiling broadly at her quiet new friend.


	2. Chapter 2

_Merry Christmas everyone! For anyone waiting for Nova to finally arrive at the place she spent the last chapter trying to arrive at, wait no longer...#anxietylife *_

**Chapter 2**

Nova thought of Tonks, standing there on the bluff.

She often thought about Tonks when she was finding something difficult. Nova still felt sick in big crowds, her head turning so fuzzy it would rival a Puffskein. Whenever she was among groups of people or even in the lifts at the Ministry, crammed in with several other witches or wizards and at least three owls, she remembered how fiercely and unabashedly Tonks would deal with any situation. They had remained friends throughout Hogwarts, but being in different houses meant they weren't as close as Nova would have liked. They had seen each other quite a bit at the Ministry, even had lunch together, but being an Auror and Tonks just _being Tonks_ meant that their interactions were few and far between; Nova could never hold her attention for very long.

Nova was still staring out over the valley as the sky darkened and a slow drizzle of raindrops started pattering down on the shoulders of her travelling cloak. Ok, _move_, she thought. Inhaling deeply and biting her lip, thinking about Tonks and how unabashed she was, she stepped forward through the barrier to a small _whipcrack_ as the charm resumed behind her. Nova was one step forward when there was a blazing flash of flame and a deafening roar, followed by a swift wind that blew her down onto her knees. Feeling it pass, she looked up and gaped.

_Welcome and a half,_ she thought. Rising slowly and brushing the sandy dirt off her hands, she watched the grandeur of black spiny wings belonging to a Hebridean Black stretch and bank on the wind with uncanny grace over the valley before circling lower and lower and disappearing into a blank spot in the forest. Looking out, she saw many other blank spots which she recognised as open enclosures for the different dragons. And they were countless. Some hedged up in the mountains or in open fields, or a couple by a huge lake, unfolding and folding their wings, resting in the early evening. She blew out a sigh and climbed on her broom decidedly, kicking off lightly and flying with renewed caution in the cool drizzle, watching carefully for any more airborne dragons to come cruising in to her flightpath. She'd been here a minute and already had a story to cause her Dad's face to fall open.  
She got as good a look of the reservation as any that she could see with her naked eye, knowing there was a lot more to it than that. She banked downwards to the left, seeing the entrance marked by a long path through the trees. As she neared the wrought-iron gate, she paused to take it in. The metal had been forged into two great dragons on either side, facing inward, plumes of iron flame bursting from their mouths and forming the rest of the gate. As she neared, it dissolved as if made of nothing but smoke, reforming as she passed through. Flying serenely and quietly up the path, she came toward two stone pillars marking the entrance of the village commune. The ground was half-sodden from a summer rain and squelched underfoot as she dismounted with a small jump, paying no mind to her already stained leather boots. She shook the water off her cloak and fingered the silver clasp that fastened it- a siren with a great tail encircling it. It was a gift from her parents at Graduation.

Nova looked around at the wooden buildings that were positioned in a circle around a large stone statue of what she knew to be Romanian Longhorns, entwined in battle before two crossed wands, a symbol of their protection. Some of the huts had small verandas, moss covered roofs and mud strewn steps leading up to them. There were two wide dirt paths; one leading just behind the statue into the dense forest beyond and another to the right which separated two rows of small chalets before ending in a stone well and ever more trees. The canopy above her was thick and kept a lot of the rain in its leaves so that fat droplets occasionally fell into small puddles on the forest floor. Nova climbed the steps of the largest hut nearest to her right. The plaque on the door was a practical engraving on a dark wood panel that read _Romanian Dragon Sanctuary. _When she couldn't open the door, the engraving changed in a fiery script to _With Dragons. Wait or follow the path directly behind you. Kind Regards._

Nova sighed. The irony that she'd worked herself up so much for this very moment and _nobody_ was here was not really lost on her. She was always very good at imagining dramatic scenarios, but had never quite learned that her expectations were rarely met. Standing for a moment with her hand on her hip, Nova spanned the centre once more before resting her broom against the door and setting off decidedly towards the path leading into the forest, with nothing disrupting the silence other than the distant roars and yawns of dragons.

—————————————

Nova had stood on the platform at Hogsmeade, fidgeting in her new cloak and holding her backpack close. An old, grumpy, greasy haired man with an angry looking cat shouted that she was to leave it behind. Afraid to get something wrong in her first minute, she quickly took out a bag of carrots for Polar before looking uncertainly at the pile of trunks that were being assembled at the far end of the platform. A booming voice was heard over the crowd, but it didn't take long to find the source. A huge -a _gigantic- _man was bearing down upon Nova and her fellow first years. A path split before him as he neared her as if he were a grizzly bear crashing through a thicket. He had a ruddy, pink face and a dancing light in his eyes, from what she could actually see behind a great mane of untidy black hair. He smelled like charcoal, hay, and the bakery that was at the end of her high street. Her neck hurt from craning up at him.

"Yerl not be needin' that jus' now, don' worry! Give it ter me and I'll put it with th'rest," he boomed, Nova realised rather late that he was speaking to her when he reached down with a hand the size of a plate to take her bag from her.

"_Uh-"_ was all she could manage before he plucked it from her arms and half flung, half placed the bag with the other baggage. It looked small and strangely out of place among the wooden trunks, but she felt a small pride regardless. As long as she had Polar around her neck, she had everything she really needed. A small voice reminded her in her head, _everything but your wand._

As she thought this, a finger the size of a cumbrian sausage missed her right eye as it scratched her furry friend on its head.

"He's a cheeky lil fellow, int he?" the man cooed at Polar, bending toward her so he blocked out the flickering lamplight on the platform and cast her in shadow. She thought he could have hidden her in one of his pockets right there and then and nobody would have noticed. Polar playfully scooted from one side of her neck to the other while the sausage chased him. Nova laughed nervously.

"He can be...His name is Polar," she hesitated before adding, "I'm Nova. Muggleborn."

The man looked at her with a curious look in his face, as if assessing her.

"An' confident enough to be pureblood, I reckon, not that any o' tha' matters. My name is Rubeus Hagrid, bu' you call me Hagrid. I'm Gamekeeper at 'ogwarts. Pleased to meet you, Nova."

Hagrid reached his hand toward hers, his face kind and open. She reached out with a pathetically tiny hand in comparison, deciding on taking a finger and shaking it, laughing. Hagrid looked over her shoulder and his eyes widened.

"_Bloody hell_, is that another Weasley then?!" he called. Nova turned and saw the quiet red haired boy from the train. His face was beaming now; he obviously knew who Hagrid was. The giant went to shake the boys hand, all but totally removing it from his body, and left Nova and Polar alone. She looked around for Tonks, eventually finding her toward the front talking to other first years.

After a few brief introductions between them all (Nigella was amongst them, and Nova thought she looked at her strangely but not unkindly), they set off following Hagrid, through a long path darkened by trees and ending in a large lake with many small boats with lanterns at the front of each one. There was a little bit of a hustle to get into each boat, and Nova found herself shoved and left with a few quieter students who obviously hadn't expected the boats. They calmly -albeit a little timidly- climbed in the last few spaces available. When she looked up, she found herself face to face with the Weasley boy. _Well, I've seen him enough times, I should just introduce myself.  
_Nova attempted to speak before the boy beamed at her in the moonlight. He had a broad, happy face and bright green eyes with a smattering of freckles so vast she could barely see the pale skin underneath. His red hair was not tamed by the darkness.

"Hi, I'm Charlie. What's your name?" The boy named Charlie pointed at Polar. "He's non-magical, right? I saw you on the platform this morning. Never seen a muggle with an animal like that. Did you train him?"

He spoke fast, and all the while looked at Polar with a kind of excited delight, rather than at her. She couldn't really complain. She'd made more friends in one day than she had in her entire life and it was starting to make her a little queasy. Nova watched him carefully, wondering which question to answer first.

The boats had begun to set off, but she didn't know how. There were no oars, but the lanterns danced on with the rocking of the water. They were on their way forward. There was a thin mist lying over the water. She was about to answer but then her eyes made out the lights of the castle, and through the mist, the silhouette of the castle itself. It was huge. Bigger than any National Trust she'd been to. It sat majestically against a pale moon and a dark navy blanket of stars shining down on the dark shape of large hills and mountains. Her mouth must have been wide open because Charlie turned round to see what she had been gaping at.

"Wow. Pretty cool right? I can't wait to fly over those turrets. Have _you_ flown before?"

Nova looked back at the small boy opposite her, her mouth still an open O.

"I'm-I..._Flying?_ I've never flown before...I'm muggleborn, I didn't-my parents and me, we thought it was all a joke, even just before we got through the barrier at 9 's...I haven't even got a wand yet...You can _fly_? _And what do you mean, non-magical?"_

She felt like she could cry. Her words came tumbling out before she could stop them, and his eyebrows went up into his forehead.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm an idiot. Merlins beard, where do I start? I'm sorry," he said. He looked mortified. Nova relaxed her face a little, holding back the tears for now.

"I ran through a wall today. I spent the day on a magical train ride with a girl who can change her face whenever she likes. I just met a giant, I think. I'm riding across a lake in a boat that seemed to steer itself and I've just met a boy who said he's going to _fly_ over _that_ castle," Nova's voice was quiet and a little dreamlike. The realisation that this world was very much _real_ hit her like a tonne of bricks. She kept her voice down, not wanting to embarrass herself in front of the other students sailing beside her, but was audible enough for Charlie to hear. She looked at him for a moment, feeling suddenly calm.

Sometimes she got a sense when she met people, something she couldn't explain, and it usually came in a feeling. It was either bright, or dark, and sometimes she heard words and sometimes, although very rarely, a picture, as if she could see inside them for the briefest of moments, before she was left with only her own mind. Charlie was warm fire and laughter, the smell of a bonfire, dirt under fingernails and the feeling of wind. So without really understanding it, she knew she could trust him.

Charlie looked back at her, back at the castle, and smiled.  
"Well I guess, if nobody else has, I better fill you in. I have an older brother here, we're from a pureblood family, so I kind of know just about everything a first year can. My Dad, though, he loves everything to do with Muggles-" Charlies face turned suddenly stony for a moment, as if he'd said something he shouldn't have, "-sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I just meant that we're really open minded."

Nova didn't know what he meant by that, but shrugged anyway. "It's fine."

Charlie smiled again, this time in relief. "I'll tell you as much as I can before we get to the castle. Maybe we'll be sorted in the same house, and I can help you out some more. I'm guessing you don't know much about that, either?"

Nova shook her head, feeling Polar nuzzling into her neck to provide some comfort. The lantern rocked with the water of lake, the light bouncing off the two. "No, but I was filled in by that girl Tonks...But she mainly talked about her own family, and how each House has an animal, and something about a song..."

Charlie braced himself slightly, a look of mischief on his face, as if having to order his thoughts carefully like a deck of cards before playing each one in a trick. "I suppose I won't start with the giant squid that lives in this lake, then."

————————————

The dirt path looked very recently trodden. The air became thick as she travelled closer in, the humidity making her skin clammy, but she kept on the wool beanie-hat that drooped off the back of her head anyway. Merlin only knew what her hair was like underneath it.

It was another ten minutes before Nova even got near the closest enclosure. She had been walking briskly too; she'd always preferred getting to where she was going as soon as possible. The enclosures seemed too open to the naked eye, with large wooden spikes pointing outward, surrounding each one. Nova halted when she saw an adolescent Hebridean Black, nursing a broken wing, curled up at the far end under a dark canopy of overhanging branches. Every hair on her body was raised. She edged around the enclosure carefully, a feeling of childlike wonder and pride filling her up at the sight of the beautiful creature before her. The snap of twigs underfoot caused the dragon to look up suspiciously with a pair of dark red eyes. It made a smokey, reaching noise before shaking itself onto its feet and clawing slowly over to her. It was a lot bigger when it stood up, but still not full size, not like the one she had seen when she'd arrived. Nova maintained calm, watchful eye contact with the creature as smoke puffed from its nostrils in a display of self-defence, one healthy wing stretching out and folding again. Many wooden bars separated her from the creature, but there was enough space between them for her to squeeze through and stand as though directly in harm's way. Nova picked up a small rock and threw it near the ground between herself and the dragon, where it bounced back toward her in mid air. Her breathing had become deep and intentional, even though there was was magical protection, it wasn't something she'd done before, not with a dragon at least, and while assertiveness and confidence was imperative and something she had in this area, it never hurt to be cautious. She looked back at the small dragon with the broken wing, its eyes a little sad looking. She smiled, maintaining eye contact constantly. She felt a kind of ease come over her, like warm sunlight. In response, the dragon made a melodic kind of noise, like string being pulled over steel. Nova mirrored it back with her own voice, her head at equal height to the dragon, which looked at her through one eye at the side of its head inquisitively. They continued this way, Nova repeating the sounds back to the dragon, its head swaying this way and that as if dancing in rhythm to the melodies, some low and some high. They lilted like a song, between haunting notes and long slides, it was as if the song was dragon-smoke itself. Her heart may have stopped beating for all that Nova was aware. She longed to be close to it, but in the back of her mind recognised caution. The sounds eventually calmed the dragon so much that it curled back up on the ground and eventually fell asleep, its eyes disappearing behind scaled lids. She smiled down at the creature, and was suddenly acutely aware of the empty space around her neck. She sighed and edged back carefully through the spikes, brushing her hands on her cloak. At the sound of a choking noise, she looked up and jumped, shouting a name that wizards weren't very familiar with. "_Jesus!"_

An entire hoard of dragon keepers, researchers and trainers were standing gawping at her with their wands out, with none other than Charlie Weasley himself leading the pack, looking for all the world like he and the rest of them had never seen someone sing a dragon to sleep before.


	3. Chapter 3

Charlie Weasley knew he hadn't really changed much since his last days at Hogwarts. He was barely an inch taller than he was in seventh year, but what he lacked in height he made up for in brawn. There was enough residual insecurity that he rarely wore long sleeved shirts or loose fitting clothes just to prove it. He couldn't remember the last time he wore robes. Charlie wasn't tall like Bill, so never had the charm with which to pull them off. Besides, he'd always felt like a wanker in them anyway.  
He'd always compared himself to his older brother in one way or another. Graduating, moving out of the Burrow and finally putting some distance between him and the family had without a doubt helped Charlie rid himself of any self doubt. Not having to see or hear about all of Bills wonderful adventures minimised the danger of comparison, so whenever Bill visited now, Charlie felt proud of himself and of the creatures he cared for, and he could just be a good brother and friend again. There was nobody else like him in the family, not many in the wizarding world, so yes, despite his average height, he learned to walk with the certainty of an Ironbelly. It definitely helped train dragons if you had authority, and Charlie had certainly gained that over the last few years, the consequences of his job being the only disruption to his heavily freckled arms. At the Sanctuary, it wasn't exactly preferred to take risks, but it sure was one way of gaining respect.

So he stood, watching the strange young woman lull an injured dragon (who were often-times more dangerous than an able one) to a peaceful sleep, thinking about _how short he felt._ When she stepped out of the trench surrounding the enclosure and wiggled awkwardly through the spikes, he finally saw her face, and a concoction of nerves and dread and something else that he wasn't well acquainted with bubbled in his stomach like so many of his failed potions at school. The tips of her hair were damp and bedraggled from under her hat. Her face was thinner, but he recognised her immediately. He would have anywhere; the same large brown eyes and bold furrowed eyebrows, the same look of concentration. It was as if her eyebrows protected all manner of things getting in, like two hairy crossed wands, she'd always worn that darker kind of quality. If Charlie was fire, she was smoke.

It was Nova.

She looked mildly surprised and embarrassed to see them all standing there. Well, Charlie himself was surprised. What in the name of Merlins cock was _Nova Unthank_ doing at the Sanctuary?

Charlie's face must have betrayed his emotions, because she quickly stiffened defensively and took off her hat, revealing the same auburn hair, now cropped to just below her ears. _Practical. _She stared at him before he decidedly avoiding her gaze. Besides his discomfort with eye contact altogether, he'd not looked at her for longer than five seconds since his sixth year, and he'd looked long enough. But Nova looked different. The same, sure. Older and more refined, but softer somehow; if it was possible to surmise that she _looked_ quieter, he would have done. Charlie looked back to the dragon where his mind was more comfortable focusing. He thought about his own face, how he had changed. He'd lost the same youthful weight in his cheeks, and sported dark red-brown stubble, which was more a case of forgetfulness than a style choice like Bill. He ran a hand through his untrimmed curls of messy hair, tugging self-consciously at the small rat tail at the nape of his neck that Ruminov had all but pinned him down to give him, laughing cruelly all the while. He'd grown to like it now.  
He was still trying to make sense of what he'd just witnessed. Awe. Shock. He was definitely _confused._ He'd seen her with animals before, but he'd had no idea it would work on a _dragon_. He remembered her ferret, Polar. Had even rescued him a few times at post in the Great Hall, great barn owls mistaking him for breakfast. She used to speak to him, _for _him, as if she knew what he was thinking. Polar was as much a part of her as she was. There was no sign of him today though. Charlie noticed very light, white lines that took the likeness of him on her neck. He felt a little sad then.

The space Charlie had put between himself and his family was also one between him and his school years, and it had started with Nova. But that distance had allowed him to become more of himself, so he wasn't really sorry. He'd gained a different perspective, sharpening like a pike. Charlie thought back to whenever he'd seen her in the corridors of school, how Polar had leapt across two or three people, much to their dismay and screams, to crawl across his shoulders and nibble his ear. The white ferret had maintained their friendship from that first day, when neither of them had tried enough. Whatever his feelings, he had that creature to thank for their friendship, even if it _had_ ended prematurely.

It wasn't his fault. Not really. Despite his decision now to treat her as he'd have wanted to be, there was still the very heavy seed of doubt.

———————————-

There was a great hush in the hall as the small, pointy hat wearing first years were lead in. Charlie was behind Nova. They had done a great deal of talking on their way in, which made his mouth a little dry, but now they had all fallen silent. He tapped her on the shoulder and pointed upwards at the ceiling of the Great Hall; thousands of candles hovered in mid air, and beyond, a vast nights sky, replete with whole constellations of stars beyond reckoning. He expected her face to drop, and was about to delight in it when instead she simply smiled, the light of the candles and the stars reflected in her eyes. She looked like a child that had just found out all her dreams were real. Well, she was exactly that. Looking back on that moment, when he had learned the words for it, Charlie believed she looked deserving. Like she belonged.

Charlie looked around at the other students, trying to spot his brother, Bill. He was nervous. It manifested into random grins of excitement. His family were Gryffindors, so it was very simple. When his name was called, he'd take the adventure with a smile, of course. But underneath the first year nerves, he knew exactly which House he belonged to. He had the privilege of full-blooded complacency. Nova, on the other hand, was brand new. He wondered if there had been any witches or wizards in her ancestry, somewhere along the line.

"_One House you might not want to be sorted into is Slytherin. I shouldn't say it really, but it's pretty rare for a person like you to be sorted there-" he'd said as their boat docked and they climbed out. He'd almost offered a hand, knowing that's what his Dad would have told him to do, but just watched her clamber out instead. _

"_What do you mean, a person like me? Someone who's not born into it?" she asked, pulling up tall. Nova was a little taller than him, so she looked down at him a little, but she wasn't angry. She reminded Charlie of a fawn. Innocent but wary. Just how she should have been, in his eleven year old opinion. _

"_Well, yeah. Slytherin House is...It's kinda known for churning out bad witches and wizards," Charlie watched her eyebrows furrow. "Like, evil ones. Not just bad at potions."_

_He tried to laugh it off as a joke, but he watched her look back across the water. "I just mean, Salazar Slytherin, the founder...he wasn't really fond of muggle-borns. Thought it was bad for wizards."_

_Nova looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, that can't be true for everyone in that House, right? Surely they're not all bad?"_

_Charlie didn't know what to say. There was a lot she didn't know, yet._

"_Come on, you two! 'Nless you'd rather go 'ome!" Hagrid called from the pier, waving his great tree trunk sized arms at them._

Nova's name was called just before his, and at this point, only a few of them were left standing in front of McGonagall. Nymphadora Tonks had just been sorted into Hufflepuff, to such colourful delight that her hair turned bright yellow to match the colours of her house. She nearly tripped running over to her table, resulting in a few gasps from the crowd of students. Charlie watched Nova watching Tonks all the way to her seat. She waved and grinned at Nova.  
Dumbledore sat in his chair, his hands resting together in front of his nose, smiling excitedly at the muggle-born who'd thought it was all a joke. Charlie felt nervous for her, for himself even. She looked back at him, smiled, and then, as if remembering she didn't really know him, looked away.

Charlie glanced around and found Bill, who gave him a thumbs up.

Nova stepped up toward the stool and looked at the hat, with its wide mouth and creased eyes hidden within the folds of the fabric, hanging from Professor McGonagalls hand. She sat down and faced the hundreds of students, her eyes quickly casting downwards. They were all watching excitedly to see who would receive her.

McGonagall placed the hat on her head. Her wide eyes looked sad all of a sudden, as if her mind was concentrating so much on the hats words in her head rather than the room, and for that moment revealed it, open like a cored apple. Polar was sniffing and nibbling at the edges of the hat.

Charlie felt a little sick, like his instinct was telling him something before he was ready to accept it.

The hat stayed on her head for a matter of seconds, but it felt too long, like the moment before a broomstick hits you in the face.

Finally, the Sorting Hat opened it's scar of a mouth and called in a rough and melodic voice, "_Slytherin!"_

Charlie's mouth fell open. He'd been certain she was a Gryffindor; she'd already been so brave. He heard a few people murmur and gasp. A muggle-born...in Slytherin…? It wasn't unheard of, but it wasn't all that common either. She wasn't nervous like the other muggle-borns, she'd taken to it just like that boat to water, as if she'd done it all before. That was all Charlie had to try and explain it. It just wasn't possible, was it? He looked to Dumbledore, whose eyebrows were raised curiously like white caterpillers, but he was smiling nevertheless. Charlie noted the look between the Headmaster and the Professor of Potions, Snape, who looked something bordering on intrigued. The younger mans black hair hung on either side of his face like greasy curtains, just like Bill said. He was supposed to be mean, ruthless, and favoured his own over any other. Charlie didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. He looked back at Nova, who, despite briefly looking at Charlie in confusion, seemed to have accepted the decision. She glanced to the Slytherin table, who were clapping and shouting. "Nova Unthank! Over here!"

She smiled back, seemingly glad, as if this was the final test, the final acceptance. Charlie wondered if they knew she was muggleborn, wondered if they'd hate her for it. Professor McGonagall gestured over to the Slytherin table. "Take a seat, dear."

Nova thanked the Transfiguration teacher and did as instructed, but stopped for a moment in front of Charlie, taking on a look of joyful determination.

"It's ok," she shrugged. "_Maybe this just means _I'm _extraordinary."_

_—————————————_

The calm indifference that Nova had gotten used to in her last two years at Hogwarts had now settled on Charlie's face. It didn't matter. She didn't miss a thing when it came to people, and she'd noticed enough the spread of emotions that manifested in his fidgeting hands to know that his passive face was simply a mask.

Even now, he was afraid of her. Surely after all this time, he knew that she wasn't a bad person? She was just a kid. Just a kid trying to make sense of everything.

"Nora Humfrank?" a handsome man with skin the colour of old parchment, shoulder length black hair and a bright red burn on the side of his face broke the silence and extended a hand to her as he introduced himself with a slight accent. "I'm Akim. I got your letter from the Ministry...Sorry we did not meet you at the gate, a tempestuous Longhorn was playing, how you say, _silly buggers_-"

"-_Akim_," Charlie said, strangely loudly against the snore of the dragon behind her, "It's No_-va_ Un-_thank._"

Akim looked confused for a moment, looking back and forth between them before Nova nodded her confirmation. "Oh...Wait, you know each other?"

"We were at Hogwarts together," Nova said, her hands in the pockets of her scaled green cloak, "It's good to see you, Charlie."

Nova remained impassive as she noticed with some internalised delight the way Charlie squirmed.

Without warning, there was a rush of voices as the other trainers behind him started belting questions at Nova, as if sensing the awkwardness. A few even bustled past him to monitor the sleeping dragon. The people he worked with were all, in one way or another, uncomfortable with human interaction, unless it was with each other, but anything to do with dragons piqued them. Charlie watched as the crowd seemed to overwhelm her slightly.

"Hey, guys, plenty time, don't you think? She just got here! Akim, why don't you show her to her digs? We can all have a beer later after I've checked in on Willow," Charlie offered, gesturing back from where they had come from. Nova smiled a little but ducked her head as the other witches and wizards apologised and heeded Charlie's order, albeit slowly, clearing the space around her a little and then dispersing reluctantly down the path away from them.

So he _was _in charge.

Akim clapped Charlie on the back congenially. "No, no, you two go way back! You take her, I'll take care of the old beast. You work too hard, friend."

"_Honestly_, I really don't-"

Nova tried weighing in. 'If it's all the same, point me in the right direction and I'm sure I can settle myself-"

Akim interrupted both of them delightfully, completely unaware of the scaling awkwardness. "It is no problem! I'll see you for a few wet ones after!"

Charlie stood with his mouth open slightly as he watched Akim pull a few of the others toward more enclosures and saunter off, leaving them alone in the middle of the path. She was too busy laughing at Akim's use of _wet ones _to notice Charlie looking at her strangely, and then he avoided eye contact altogether. Nova followed his eyeline pointedly, standing next to him and peering down. "What are you looking at Charlie?"

"I-nothing, nothing," Charlie glanced back at the dragon and starting off towards the village. Nova walked next to him. "How...are you?"

"A bit damp. In need of a bath and some hot food. Can't wait to see more of these beautiful dragons," she replied. "_You can put your wand away now, Charlie."_

Charlie looked down to see he was still gripping his wand. He tucked into the back of his trousers and laughed nervously. "Sorry, force of habit. Can never be too careful-"

"Around me?" Nova looked at him.

"No, not at all, that's not what I meant-" Charlie spoke firmly.

"_I know,_ I'm just enjoying watching you squirm."  
So maybe diffusing him with humour wasn't the way to go, "...This is awkward for me too."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Charlie guided her through the centre of the village and down the row of chalets, climbing the steps of the eighth one down on the right hand side and opening the front door. Nova walked in before him and stood in the middle of the little wooden house. The cabins always reminded him of Hagrids house at Hogwarts, but bigger. He could tell from the look on her face that she thought the same. The front room was spacious and served as a kitchen and living area. The alcove at the back was partitioned off with an old navy curtain emblazoned with stars and moons, behind which revealed a double bed, sitting snugly between glass panelled walls and ceiling.

"It could probably do with a Scourgify...It's pretty poor payment in comparison to what you'll be used to-"

"How would you know?" Nova turned round, ducking her head back through from the sleeping area to look at him.

Charlie sighed and pushed the hair from his face. "Look, I'm trying here." He held his small, strong hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I just thought, from what I _heard..._Bill told me you were working at the Ministry. Sorry. I assumed."

Nova looked at him blankly, then turned away and flicked her wand at the fireplace to her right, cleaning it and simultaneously tidying the pots and pans hanging from it. A fire burst into flames underneath the stove, brightening the now almost dark room. She wordlessly lit the lamps dotted around the room before tucking her wand into a notch in her belt, undoing the clasp around her throat and throwing her travel cloak and hat over a chair, running a hand through her damp hat hair. She didn't look at Charlie, who was still lingering by the open door with his hands in his pockets, watching as she spoke. Her wandcraft was always so impressive and had become seamless in her adult years, but she moved methodically, like she ticked things off a list in her head, like she wouldn't be able to breathe before completing it.

"I couldn't go back to live with my parents 'cos none of their appliances would work, so the Ministry put me up in a place close to Diagon Alley, but living round there is pretty expensive. And you really don't get much space for your money, so...I mean, I get by, I can afford the things I want...But I transfer a bit of money back to my parents, too. They spent a lot on my school stuff. Least I could do, really."

Nova stood with her hands on her hips. She spoke pragmatically, almost waving off her charitable tendencies as if they were nothing more than a moral obligation. Charlie got a better look at her then, while she was distracted; her eyes had wandered over to the window as she rambled. She wore a short cropped green velvet jacket that was buttoned up tightly around her torso and high on her throat, and loose, high waisted wide black trousers with a silver buckle. She had trailed mud in with her sturdy leather boots. She dressed more like a witch now than she ever used to, but there was still the homage to her muggle heritage that Charlie liked, something _dressed down_ about her.

When he looked back at her face Nova was watching him blankly. She broke the silence after he struggled to find the words to.

"Listen, Charlie. We don't have to hold ourselves to who we were at school. That was years ago. I'm sure we've both changed, I know I have." Nova spoke the last few words quietly, as if in regret. "Things don't have to be weird."  
Charlie took his hands out of his pockets, wiping them on his trousers, his movements nervous but his gaze steady. He had to trust her. There was no other choice. Bill had always said he was worse with people but better with decisions. He reached out his scarred, muscular hand.

"Sure. Clean slate?"

Nova looked at his muscled hand. His wrists were wrapped with leather straps, the surfaces covered with ash and dirt. She took a deep breath in an effort to squash down old feelings.

"The slate's never clean, Charlie. But we can try and wipe some of it away, right?"

Charlie smiled back at her, a little regretfully. "Trust?" she said, sensing that despite his agreement, he was still harbouring fear.

She reached out her hand, her eyes intently on his, willing him to take it.

He hesitated, and grasped Nova's hand in his.

-

Later in the afternoon, well after Charlie had left and she had unpacked, cleaned and tidied, she collapsed back on her bed, complete with clean sheets, and waited for the bath water to infuse with the dried lavender herbs she'd sprinkled over its steaming surface. The old, cracked roll top stood off to one side behind a practical, wooden room divider but the humidity of the water vapour was already filling the cabin. She inhaled the scent of it.

It hadn't gone all that badly. It wasn't what she had imagined, but it rarely ever was. Her anxiety had betrayed her yet again; instead of feeling dread, she felt a brightness, an excitement tickling in her chest, something that had seemed buried under years of dark Ministry work.

Nova had certainly been used to keeping people at arms length before she was accepted into Hogwarts, but during her years she had made efforts to keep the people she trusted close to her. She was resourceful with people in a way that many of her House friends had not been capable of; they were either too cold or simply did not care. Many of her housemates were too focused on themselves to bother, or worse, had such an inaccurate impression of her that close proximity to it would somehow make it true. Regardless, Nova relied on the select few people that, in one way or another, filled out a gap in her personality. She couldn't say for certain whether her selections were selfish or not, but nobody could deny her loyalty, and so it was not any fault of hers that Charlie had grown so distant. Nova hadn't bore a bad word against him, despite everything. Since the end of their sixth year, he had spent much of his time in the forest and with Hagrid. She knew that's where he'd have been anyway. It had given her some consolation though that he at least felt guilty enough to run away from everything. Charlie was always civil to her, kind even, but anything resembling the true friendship they'd once had sent him running back toward creatures that didn't talk back. It was never the same. He stopped looking at her in the eye, just in case. It was like as soon as his beard came through, he lost the childlike openness she'd become so used to. Still, his indifference had belied a fondness, and she knew it. She'd always known it. Even after that night by the side of the lake, when he'd left her crying silently and angrily with cornflakes in one hand and her wand in the other, she knew there were just some walls that couldn't be climbed.

She sighed heavily to herself. Even now, Charlie looked at her as though she was going to see his thoughts. It didn't matter that he had known her before, or during their time at Hogwarts to know her better than that, but there was an edge to his voice. An edge she was familiar with. The rest of the department was careful around her; they were the only ones that knew. Sometimes it sounded like mistrust, sometimes it sounded like fear.

She had to be vulnerable enough to admit that, even though they'd been good friends before, the feeling she first experienced when she met Charlie- of woodsmoke and wind- felt diluted and less intense as the years went by, as if he was protecting himself. With every year they grew older, they seemed to grow apart. Charlie, less of the boy that he was and more...well. Self conscious. There was always a small wall between them. That night by the lakeside had only proved it, and in so compounded every small fear against her, and every resentment against him.

The scents of lavender had begun their trailing journey in the air of her new home, and so she slowly stripped and lowered herself into the warm bath. There was a lot to unpack that wasn't already in its place in her cabin, but there was time enough.

She closed her eyes and held her breath, sinking beneath the steaming water.


	4. Chapter4

Twelve year old Charlie was munching on a sausage sandwich nervously as he gazed across the Great Hall toward the Slytherin table, where the last stragglers of students hurriedly finished their breakfast before class. Nova was sat slightly apart from the other students, Polar wound around her neck protectively and watching the students that were staring at her. She ate her breakfast slowly and purposefully as the heckling began. Her gaze was down at the table, and Charlie thought for a moment that she simply hadn't heard them all, but it was a fools hope. She could hear them alright, she'd heard them for the best part of the school year. Polar hissed at them, his small fangs and black eyes glinting in the morning light.

"Oh no! Her mouse is going to attack us!" one student laughed tauntingly, nudging another beside her. She had dark hair and mixed intentions. Charlie tried to remember her name. Nigella. She'd been fine around Nova until she'd started to show her aptitude in nearly every class. Even Charlie had to admit that at times, Nova seemed a better witch than he was- a pureblood wizard. He'd always shrugged it off; he was only interested in Flying and getting to study Care of Magical Creatures in his third year anyway.

"She got a mouse because she's not a real witch, it's what I've been saying all year. No way a muggleborn would get into Slytherin."

"Dumbledore made a mistake sending her that letter."

"She's only good with animals because muggleborns are animals-"

"Be quiet before I make you quiet," Nova spoke loudly and suddenly, causing Charlie to stop mid-munch.

She'd confessed to Charlie before that it felt like every fear she'd had and chosen to ignore when she came to Hogwarts was being echoed through the mouths of the other first year Slytherins. He watched as the older Slytherins held their tongue again and again, not defending their own. He'd had to give Snape credit where it was due though; whenever the Potions master witnessed it, he was quick to admonish the others with a quick witted put down and defend Nova, confusing as that was. But Snape was nowhere to be seen, now. Charlie would have gone over to defend her, but Bill had warned him off getting involved with the Slytherins bullying. "Not worth it mate. Anyway, you'd never have the stones," he'd say before ruffling his hair.

The other girls were stunned for a second before they howled a little too forcibly, attempting to put out the fire that seemed to be igniting in Nova.

"Did you hear that?" a girl called Megane with a broad face and hair pulled back taught in a ponytail teased across from Nigella, who looked cautious despite the smile on her face. Since Nova had gotten her real wand, her spell casting had improved. They'd pushed her enough that he wouldn't have been surprised if she cursed Nigella and Megane both. "A mudblood just threatened us!"

Charlie choked on his breakfast roll as the students around him went quiet, wondering who around them had dared utter it. Even some of the other Slytherins looked disturbed.

He'd heard them tease her, but they'd never used that word before. Few people ever did. He'd told her about it, a couple of months in, when she started being treated differently for being muggle born. Charlie had to admit that it wasn't just the Slytherins that hassled her. He figured you could be anti-You-Know-Who and still have pureblood ego issues.

But Nova stood abruptly, her hands anchored to the table. Charlie wanted more than anything to go over and be her ally, but he was rooted to the spot. Bill was right. He didn't have the stones. He could only witness what was about to happen.

The girls all nudged each other in fake fear and anticipation of what she'd do next. Nova breathed in and stared intensely at Nigella.

"I didn't know her eyes could get any more googlier-" Nigella whispered jokingly before silencing suddenly, her eyes widening and falling empty at the same time.

"Nigella? What's wrong?" Megane nudged her but Nigella didn't move. "Oi! What are you doing?!"

A couple of other young Slytherins reached over and poked both Nigella and then Nova, who seemed to be in some sort of trance, as the older students, becoming interested, put their spoons down and soon forgot about their cornflakes.

Other houses had begun to notice, turning around on their benches. Some time went by, as Nigella gradually turned white as a sheet and Nova remained standing, her eyes unblinking, Polar hissing around her neck. She began to shake slightly, which in turn made students get up from their seats and crowd around the table. He glanced to the teachers table; empty. Someone clicked their fingers in front of her eyes. Charlie crawled under his table deftly and joined the crowd, pushing through the bodies to get a closer vantage point. As the minutes went by, his concern grew. Despite her shaking, Nova looked calm, as if she wasn't really there, but Nigella wavered, her eyes white, her skin pale and her arms slack. For all she looked like a ghost, a great wave of fear was emanating from her, causing more students to look at each other in worry.

Eventually, the tension was broken by a low moaning coming from Nigella, which caused a few students to giggle and murmur to each other. The dark haired girl had started to shake, the colour drained from her face, as great, fat tears spilled from her eyes. Her lip quivered and her body tensed. Nova just stared. Charlie was scared by Nigella's fitful condition, but he was more perturbed by the threatening look of anger that was on Nova's face. There was something so disturbing about the way Nigella stared at Nova, as if she'd seen every nightmare come true before her. "Iiiii'm…..sorrrrrrryy….." Nigella struggled to speak, but the desperation in her eyes was clear. Charlie grimaced.

More laughs from the crowd. Charlie could hear people whispering though. "How is she doing that?"

"Someone shouldn't have underestimated the muggleborn, ey?"

Nigella hadn't stopped talking. "I'mmmm….a terrible...wiiiitch...and I faaaancy...Snaaaape,"

There was raucous laughter from around the Slytherin table, mainly from the other Houses, but even the Slytherins were smirking to each other. The look in Nova's eyes was of dark enjoyment, and Charlie was suddenly conscious of why she might have been placed in the worst house there was. If it wasn't for the fact that he knew her, he'd have run a mile, but he alone could tell that behind her intense glare, she was frightened, as if she had no control. She was bursting with emotion that was promising to overspill its container. Charlie grew more wary, and tried to edge closer to break whatever had come over Nova before someone shook him at the shoulder.

"What's going on?"

It was Bill.

"I don't know, they were teasing Nova again, and she just sort of, went quiet and then Nigella...That's that girl there...She, well, she started looking like that," Charlie spoke quietly as he pointed.

He looked up at his older brother who looked very worried indeed. They both looked over at the older Slytherins, including the prefects, who stood and watched Nova with interest. Megane and the other girls looked entranced by Nova and equally as afraid that she'd do the same to them.

"Aren't you going to do anything about this?" Bill ordered. The Prefects looked back at him, smirks at their mouths.

"Far from it, Weasley. The muggle-born is finally showing up. Slytherins fight for a place. She's finally earning hers. Let her have it, I say," A tall black haired boy, around the same height as Bill, folded his arms and stared on authoritatively.

"And this is your idea of earning a place? Bullying another student?" Bill called.

"Hardly, Bill, come on. All well and good you trying to do the right thing here, but you've seen what little brats these few are, they've been taunting her for months. What have you done about it? But our honorary muggleborn is finally standing up for herself. Was starting to wonder why she was placed with us, until now."

Charlie remembered the Prefects name as Thorne, who stared at Bill until he backed down. He guessed his older brother couldn't really argue. It was all well and good calling out the bullying. After all, it was a very noble, Gryffindor thing to do. If Charlie had had the confidence, or didn't know Nova, he'd have done the same, but Bill had passively looked elsewhere when Nova herself was bullied in the first place. Charlie couldn't say for sure if they weren't different in that way.

The Weasley brothers had no choice but to look on.

Nova broke her eye contact with the girls who had all turned stony, which seemed to release Nigella from her condition.

"I am a good witch! Nigella is a jealous, insecure little brat who is threatened by me because she knows I'm better. If you're not careful, Megane, if you call me mudblood again, I'll do...I'll do worse to you," Nova spoke seethingly to the ponytailed witch before her, and looked around her as her hands shook. Suddenly Charlie felt very sad for her, the way her voice was breaking moved him but he didn't know in which way. "Nobody will ever call me that again unless you want to look like that. Now get out of my way!"

Nova's voice had broken into sobs as she picked up her bag and struggled to push her way through the electric crowd as Nigella slumped, face first with a sigh before Thorne caught her and placed her somewhat gently but passively onto the table where she lay in a state of shock. Charlie was already pushing through the crowd and trying to catch up with Nova, half sick. He heard Thorne call tiredly for someone in the gossiping crowd to get Madame Pomfrey.

Charlie was barely watching where he was going before he pushed right into a tall black cloak.

"Sorry, sir!" Charlie yelped and ducked as Snape swung round. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

The potions master looked down at him from dark, searching eyes, under which Charlie paled. Snape spoke, merely raising his voice, but everyone shushed each other regardless; Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Slytherins alike. As he did so, Charlie braved a glance at his friend who stood cradling her bag, tears careening down her cheeks. "Thorne, take Miss Blackjoy to the Infirmary to make sure she hasn't died from embarrassment...the rest of you, get-to-class."

Snape had a way of addressing every person so slowly and with such venom that it caused the students to immediately disperse and follow his orders, without question. In the rush, Charlie looked back at Nova who still stood on the spot, her eyes closed and hiccuping tears, shaking.

"Nova…" he said whilst being jostled by the students around him. The Slytherins all ducked their heads as they passed Snape with a quick 'Sorry sir,' while the other Houses merely fled. Nova looked up at him while Polar ran in small circles around her neck. "What was that? What did you do?"

Almost immediately Charlie realised that it was the wrong thing to say entirely; Nova looked more hurt than before. Ashamed. The motion was small but he couldn't miss it. She ducked her chin slightly and turned away, towards Snape.

"Mr Weasley, if you're quite finished bothering my student, I would advise getting on your way before Gryffindor lose any more house points," Snape hissed at him from behind. Charlie nodded hurriedly, ducking his head, saying sorry so quietly he was convinced only Krupps with an advanced sense of hearing could hear him.

Nova stood shaking with shock, half exhilarated, and half fearful of what she had done. She had had enough of being teased and bullied, but being inside Nigella's mind...She felt wraught with exhaustion and regret, having seen and felt things that she didn't really want to.

She could feel Snape's gaze on her but the weight of her experience lay across her like a protective shield.

"I don't suppose there is an apology forthcoming, Miss Unthank?" he asked he abruptly.

When she didn't reply, he nodded. "With me. I will notify Flitwick that you will be late to class."

Thinking he would lead her to Dumbledore's office, he instead bypassed the stairs, his great black cloak billowing out behind him, Nova caught in his slipstream. She stopped, gazing up at the stairs. "Sir?"

Snape stopped and turned to face her.

"Do you really think Professor Dumbledore does not know what goes on in his school? Why do you think you were brought here, child? Now follow me," his voice rang out across the now empty entrance hall.

The sound of their steps on the stone flags down to the Dungeons were the only thing she was aware of; that and Polar nuzzling into her neck comfortingly. Snape moved oddly fast for a man that seemed so collected; her short legs struggled to keep up. When they reached the Potions class, he told her to wait outside. She overheard him telling his fourth year class to write ten pages on the ingredients and properties of each of three separate antidotes, to which the class groaned and then immediately quieted as Snape took ten house points from each house except his own. A small victory, Nova thought to herself. He briskly returned, shutting the door behind him and walking down the corridor to his office, where he held the door open for Nova.

Once inside the small space, Nova stood awkwardly before a desk littered with compartments, jars and vials. Every inch of the walls contained specimens and ingredients for potions she was yet to learn about. As he edged past to stand before her, her gaze faltered to the floor.

"Explain to me what happened, and honestly. I will find out regardless.There is no-one in this school who can fool me," he said pointedly.

"I'm not sure, Professor-" she began, struggling to find the words to explain what she'd always been able to do. "I-I…"

"Do not mumble. Spit it out," Snape interrupted. The tone of his voice was monotonous but like the gentle roll of a stone. Nova could understand why everyone hated him, but she also sensed a kindness where no-one else seemed to.

"I read her mind. I think."

Snape inhaled deeply. "There is no such thing as mind-reading, but I will forgive this oversight. An ability to traverse the many layers of the human mind and journey into the thought and consciousness of another is no easy feat. Few wizards and witches are able to practise the Legilimens spell, some for years. They may even successfully use it, but do not reach the level that you exemplified today. There are even fewer who can do so wandlessly."

Snape's words caught her attention like a hook. It hung in the air between them as she stared into his pale face.

"Legilimens, sir? Wait-" her eyes widened in realisation, "You were watching?"

Snape never rolled his eyes but gave her a look that suggested it. "Your prefect was not wrong. It was about time you stood up to the students that bullied you. Slytherins are determined and very self-sufficient creatures. Some students take years, unfortunately…" Snape paused for only a moment before continuing. "But one can only wound us so many times before the snake ultimately bites back. I was witness to that in the Great Hall."

"Professor, I don't understand...why you let me do that to her," Nova whispered, not wanting to cry in front of the potions master. She knew without really knowing that tears made him uncomfortable.

"Miss Unthank, as much as I dislike my students turning on one another, I needed to see the scale of your ability. Dumbledore has been aware of it for some time. We believed it to be nothing more than heightened empathy. As luck had it, however, you were gifted to me by the Sorting Hat, and it just so happens that I am highly skilled in Legilimens, although my craft has been long honed and sharpened. Yours, I fear, is inherent, and therefore most rash and untrained."

Nova shuffled from one foot to the other, her piqued interest distracting her from her sorrow. She wiped her eyes.

"You can read minds too?" she asked.

Snape sighed impatiently. "Please do not make me regret defending you today. What did I just say to you?"

"There is no such thing as mind-reading. Ok, so...You can see into a persons mind? Do you have to ask? Can you do it without them knowing...sir?"

Snape idly turned some jars so their labels faced tidily outward. "There are some who have to utter incantations. There are some who, like you today, need to concentrate, thus making your intentions clear and giving the recipient a chance to use Occlumency, the counter charm. Others, like me, can do it at will. If a persons mind is unguarded, I will see into it. If I so desire."

"Cool."

Her Head of Year looked at her sharply. "The gift you have, on the other hand, is natural. It is wild and uncontrolled, and yet it is the reason you are here. You are a witch, and already you show great promise. I trust you will go on to do remarkable things in spite of your muggleborn status...But make no mistake; Legilimens is not a cool, fantastical gift to be whipped around to impress upon others. It demands respect. It will make others cold towards you. I have kept my skill hidden for many a year, but you made a show of yourself earlier in the Great Hall. Learning this skill in secret would have made your time here much easier. You will have to gain back the trust of your peers, if you so wish. They will not easily warm to you, now that you have threatened to unearth the darkest parts of their minds. That in of itself is quite the threat, regardless of how deserving they may be of your retribution."

Nova paused, her thoughts a whirl of regret and worry. Her mouth was a soft O. "How do I get better?"

Snape sat behind his desk and put his fingertips together. Nodded slightly.

"First, you tell me exactly what you can already do, so we can surmise the form of your skill. Then you come to me twice a week for additional classes. You tell no-one that I am a Legilimens, do you understand? That is very important. More important than your future. I will have you expelled, Slytherin or no."

Snapes face was suddenly very dark. Nova rushed to nod her head. "Of course, Professor."

"Tell me now," he said simply, his dark eyes peering at her through his long black hair. His gaze terrified and compelled her all at once. She was suddenly very grateful to be a Slytherin and in his favour.

"Would it not be easier to, look, sir?" she said, her head cocked to one side.

There was faint line of humour around his mouth that was quelled before it began, but she saw it.

"You wish me to look inside your mind? Uncover all your youthful inclinations? For your Potions master to see which boy looked at you fondly? Which name you scrawl onto parchment before you go to sleep?" Snape taunted from behind his desk.

She could feel her face reddening and Polar squeaked, but she was defiant. "There are no names scrawled on parchments, sir! Still, I think...No thanks."

"Names and memories are scrawled on the walls of your mind, and I would read them as easily I do your disappointing essays. However, I have no such desire. I would not, unless absolutely necessary. Although, it does not take a Legilimens to know I would see a certain Weasley name scrawled across yours," he drawled. She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a hand. "Listen to me. Gryffindors are cocky, arrogant and self righteous. If you do not know what those words mean, I suggest you look them up. Friends they may be, but when the time comes, they will always judge a Slytherin before themselves. Remember that, Unthank."

There was a widening pause then, where Nova felt as though there was a great presence in the room with them, something unsaid but remembered. His face was harder now, a flicker of a ghost in his eyes. She felt inclined to agree with her Professor. Nova had felt it for some time, the way Gryffindors all but spat at students like her, but being muggleborn she thought she didn't have a right to it; she was at the very least forgiven for being a muggleborn. Even so, she still believed that she was more than the Slytherin stereotype, and decided there and then not to hold anyone else to theirs, regardless of what they thought of her.

Nova nodded.

"Now. Tell me what you can already do," Snape gestured with his hand for her to speak.

She proceeded to inform him of the feelings she got when meeting people, the images and colours which rounded her impression of others. Then of her ability, when concentrating on her breathing and on the other person, to see words, their thoughts. She even confessed to the time she embarrassed her Uncle. When she finished, she felt a little out of breath. She had never spoken of her abilities to anyone before, and she'd never imagined Snape would be the first ear to receive the information.

He narrowed his eyes slightly and chose his words carefully. "The ability to read a persons impression, is very much an empathic skill, one I believe is separate although not unconnected to your Legilimens. You will be able to use this to your advantage, and is nothing you should feel secretive of. Many magical beings are more sensitive to the vibrations of others, and it would seem that you are one of them. However, your ability to see thoughts is what brought you here, and the very thing we need to carefully nurture." Snape looked off thoughtfully for a moment, and then back to her. "Thank you, Miss Unthank. That will be all."

Nova's mouth still hung open a little. She had a lot to process for a twelve year old. She could see inside people's minds. It frightened her, thinking what she might see, but ultimately her skin seemed to harden. It bolstered her, gave her hope even then. She was a witch, and no-one could take that from her.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

Nova turned to go, but as her hand touched the doorknob, Snape's voice called out dully from behind her, bold with importance, but as if he didn't really believe the full extent of his words.

"If I find that you use your gift upon any undeserving fellow as promised, I will not be as forgiving. This is not a weapon but a privilege. Do you understand?"

Snape's eyes were focused on parchments on his desk. Nova squeaked out a "Yes, sir," before swiftly exiting the room and Snape's watchful mind.


	5. Chapter 5

_Thanks for waiting! Life just gets in the way I guess. Really enjoying exploring ways we misunderstand one another, and how delicate friendships can be._

* * *

Charlie wandered into the common room of the central reservation site, which served as a dining room and kitchen of sorts, but mainly a tavern for the trainers, who despite hailing from around the world all had one thing in common; drinking. It was a long, wooden room with a communal cooking area and an imposing stone fireplace at one end. The fire kicked out monumental heat during the winter, but for now it simmered gently over coals; autumn was only just reddening the leaves and frosting the ground at dawn. The Pub, as it was somewhat unimaginatively named, was the hub for the central site, with many other trainers located further away travelling there on an evening. While in the summer they mostly opted for sitting outside, the Pub was the living room, so was very rarely empty.

The rest of the room was lit primarily by great wooden chandeliers and fat candles that dripped wax so that the wood itself looked almost white. Most of the other trainers who weren't on night-shift were already there, sitting around the long tables with great jugs of beer and glass goblets of firewhisky that shimmered in the firelight. Charlie edged in quietly and picked himself a large steiner of ale that he kicked back quickly. He sighed heavily to himself.

There was suddenly raucous laughter from one end of the table nearest the fire, which drew him in. The light was dimming under the candles, which ultimately relaxed Charlie. He could hide in it if he wanted to, and very often did.

The night was cool, so he was glad for the fires proximity. The warmth licked the skin on his forearms. As he reached the table he smiled warmly down at the rest of his team, taking a seat as the others made space for him reverently and greeted him cordially. As he scanned the faces he found Nova's smiling back from the very end of the table, a firewhisky held loosely in her hand, swirling in red hues between the fire and him. She raised it slightly. Her eyes looked like dark pools in the low light. She'd switched her velvet jacket out for a simple black top and a dark, high collared leather jacket. His memory of her was jarring against the present image. It wasn't as if he'd spent years thinking about her; it was the opposite. The minute he left Hogwarts he'd sought to put space between him and his school years, eager as he was to. To finally do something good with what he was good _at. _So it wasn't like he hadn't expected her to change, he'd just...Well, he'd never thought about it. And for some reason, he felt guilty. He'd all but forgotten her.

He raised his goblet and took a few gulps, wiping his mouth and joining the conversation of those around him. The air was musty with the scent of dragons and woodsmoke. To Charlie, the reservation was a second Burrow. It was home, just without the weight of his Mothers expectations. But now it felt as though the air was disrupted. There was more smoke, something subtly out of place. He could live with it, but it nudged at him in his chest until it caught his breath. He tapped the side of his mug and looked into the liquid, hoping he'd find clarity there.

"Hi," Nova's voice danced into the cold winter air from behind him as he heard the slump of her bag on the ground. "Big beasty show his face yet?"

Charlie looked up behind him. Nova's face was buried inside a Hufflepuff scarf, her dark auburn hair flaying out between wraps. Charlie's eyes looked back quickly to face the lake, where he resumed casting _Wingardium Leviosa _on small kippers from breakfast across the air to entice out a tentacle or two. "Nope. Just a few birds," he gestured to the circling hawks that spotted a free lunch in the floating smoked fish.

Nova joined him, dangling her feet over the edge of the dock. "Here, let me help."

She removed her wand. It was a Cypress Wood with Unicorn hair, 10 ¾ inches and surprisingly swishy. He knew that because she'd said it enough times, proclaiming in a state of awe when she finally got it that it was ingrained in his memory. She pulled it out from inside the huge dark green duffle coat that she'd half bought for necessity (Scottish winters were cold), but also because it matched Charlies brown one. She'd made a point of that too, rubbing its furry trim in his face. _Literally._ Nova grabbed some of the fish from the paper Charlie was holding them in and floated them effortlessly across the water in a rather fine dance to join the others.

"You been here all morning? I couldn't find you! We're supposed to meet Filch in the courtyard for Hoggy-hogsmeade in twenty minutes," Nova asked, her eyes on the fish she was now making dance around Charlies'.

His eyes were fixed on the waltz of the dead fish. There was a prick of something in his stomach as he watched her wandwork that made him turn his own wand over in his hand. Despite this, he laughed a little, burying his chin inside his dark brown coat he'd been given by Bill. Winter was on its way; the air was brisk and the bloated clouds were attempting to push snow out from above.

"I'm not sure I want to go."

Nova's fish dropped into the water, but the water rippled suddenly, distracting her for a moment, and a tentacle the size of a longboat swerved up and grabbed the offering that lay floating limply on the surface.

"_Hey!"_ Nova sung out, her voice clear across the cold, still lake. "_There_ he is! See! He was just enjoying the show."  
"Maybe he heard your voice, he always comes out for you," Charlie said quietly, almost to himself.

His voice had broken in the last year, and the lower tones resonated in the quiet air. He'd been embarrassed at first, but then soon all the other boys suffered the same fate, and Nova never said a thing. He'd wondered if she _knew_, in that way, and she was too good a friend to ever make a note of it.

Anyway, she had changed too. That was part of the problem.

Nova looked at him quizzically, then smiled shyly, looking back at the lake. _Did she know? _

"Well, Beasties fed now, so we don't have to worry about him. C'mon, I want to see Zonko's and..you know. Everything," she shrugged brightly. The fact that she said _we_ made him somewhat happier and _un_happier at the same time.

Charlie shuffled, grimacing slightly. "How did you know where to find me?"

Nova looked at him, puzzled. "Charlie, you're always here. _We're_ always here."

Charlie nodded absently.

"How about it then? Or do I have to drag you?" Nova was looking at him intently, he could feel it, but his eyes kept their focus on the slapping tentacle.

"I dunno. Bill's going with all his mates."

Nova made a noise that was halfway between a groan and a yelp, then nudged him playfully. "Do you want me to make him cry?"

Charlie laughed a little then. He couldn't deny he'd enjoy the sight of it, but he held his breath for a few seconds.

A lot had happened since the incident towards the end of their first year. Over that summer, letters had flown back and forth between them, cementing their friendship. Nova had all but confessed her abilities and feelings about what had happened, and Charlie had done his best to understand, but he couldn't forget the look on her face that day, the dark enjoyment. But he'd been persuaded, relentlessly on Nova's part, that not all Slytherins were bad, because she was good. She was his only benchmark, though. They'd become each others' only good friends, despite being from seperate houses. Tonks joined them often, and Bill sometimes tagged along and teased Charlie, or made Nova blush, but it was often just them. In any event, she'd become a lot better at controlling her emotions, even if she _did_ go red when Bill made an innocent comment about how long her hair was getting. Whether that was from her secret classes with Snape, or the fact that nobody really bullied her anymore (so she never _had_ to lose it), Charlie wasn't sure. She had never used her abilities on anyone else, at least.

_To his knowledge.  
_Sometimes Nova just had a _way_ of knowing what he was thinking, or staying silent at the opportune moment. He told himself he trusted her, but over time he started to feel like a fraud; he had never admitted to her that he had read up on Legilimens in the Library and found its counter-charm, Occlumency. He'd been secretly practising before he went to sleep. The last thing he wanted was for her to see his thoughts, after all, how was he to know she wouldn't use it against him if they ever fell out? He'd been struggling a little with the way he was changing, like he was becoming a different person without his own permission. He was uncomfortable in his growing skin. Bill made it seem as natural as breathing, but Charlie felt like he was losing, not gaining something. Something vital and pure.

Nevertheless, Charlie was the only person who really knew what had happened that day in their first year, and thus the only person Nova could joke about it with. Everyone else looked at her darkly. The fact that she was a Slytherin made it worse. Her fellow house-mates celebrated it, even used it to threaten other students, which in turn made her seem undesirable to the rest. Obviously Charlie knew better than that, but there was only so much convincing he could do, and he didn't do a lot. She wore her pride with a cold smile and put her head down in class when she wasn't smuggling in snacks for them to eat in History of Magic. Nova was a hard working witch, and quite happy to just be a part of the magical world, so much so that she didn't desire any extra friends, even when she got them. He found he didn't really _have_ to be her defender, she simply didn't need one. Nova didn't bear any fools, but was otherwise very bright, funny and sarcastic. She would follow him into the Forbidden Forest in search for dragons, all the while testing him on their breeds and habitats, dropping in inconceivably false facts to try to catch him out. Sometimes she liked staring off across the lake, humming to herself, while Charlie would try and coax a mermaid from the depths, Nova jokingly and yet self-consciously luring them with her singing. She'd go for long walks on her own around the grounds, or bring him sketches of her common room to look at so he knew what it looked like.

Nova was happy in the quietness of life, which suited Charlie down to the ground.

"Nobody needs to see Bill cry. He's an ugly crier," Charlie smirked. "Wouldn't be a fair fight."

Suddenly Polar's face poked out through a fold in her scarf, where he'd been nestled. He squeaked and prepared to jump across the distance between them that seemed to grow an atoms width every day. He was always very good at sensing tension, and diffusing it almost immediately. "See?" she sung, "He wants you to come too. Please?"

Polar jumped and landed on Charlie's shoulder, then nestled into his hood where he refused to leave. Her eyes were too pleading, verging on disappointment. Maybe it was his Mothers fault and her constant mithering over him that he found girls impossible to say no to. Bill said it made him a pushover.

He often had to remind himself that she was muggle-born; it was easy to forget because she took to magic like a Porlock to horses. She'd never seen a magical village before, and Nova wouldn't go without him, he knew that. Not that she would laud it over him, because really, Charlie wanted to. He just felt sick about it. He didn't like the way his body responded to the nudges and punches that he'd never thought twice about prior. Charlie sometimes thought Nova knew him _too _well. His sudden awareness of being a boy, and she a girl, and everything in between...that awareness grew outwards, to the way he noticed curves on Nova where there hadn't been before, or the way the ends of her eyelashes turned blonde, or-

"I'll come. But only if we make ourselves sick on fizzing whisbees," Charlie said, already starting to stand up.

"Um, without a _doubt!" _Nova laughed.

She picked up her bag and flicked her wand behind her, following him down the pier and across the grass towards the castle, the sound of dead kippers splashing atop the lakes surface serenading them as they left.

It was only when they were on their way back to Hogwarts, bellies aching a little and sugar stuck in their teeth, that Charlie asked why she was wearing a Hufflepuff scarf.  
"Oh, this," she said, puffing a hair away from her face, "Tonks gave it to me. Said I looked cold. Which I was. Also said that it would help people see across House lines, or something."  
Charlie laughed knowingly, popping another sherbert lemon into his mouth. "Thanks for these, by the way."  
Nova nudged him with her shoulder gently. "S'ok."  
Polar was suddenly rummaging around in Charlie's hood with a small dead mouse Hagrid had given them on their way back, and abruptly emerged on his shoulder, licking his sharp teeth and breathing dead mouse breath down Charlie's neck. He gave him a scratch on the top of his head.  
"You know, there's really no-one else that Polar is as comfortable with, as he is with me, apart from you," Nova spoke quietly, her breath a little laboured from clambering back up the hill towards the bridge, her attention on her feet. "I know you love creatures, like, a lot of people do. But you have a way. They love you too."  
Nova wasn't looking at him then, which he was grateful for, because his face felt as red hot as dragonfire in the chilly afternoon air. "Uh...thanks, Nova."  
Charlie stared hard at the ground as Nova stomped slightly further ahead. Polar head butted his chin. "What?"  
Polar merely squeaked.

* * *

The night wore on and where the flames did not burn, the room was dark. Nova was a few drinks in and feeling the warmth in her face, relaxed in a way she hadn't been in years. She'd spent most of the night listening to others talk about the reservation and getting to know the other trainers; Akim and a young woman from the Czech Republic with a shaved head called Rumi, whose face was small, pale and round and sported dragon scales tattooed up her neck. Far from feeling intimidated by how little she knew about Dragons in comparison, she felt welcomed and embraced. Perhaps that was just firewhisky talking, it was now making her knees tingle.

"Anyone is welcome here, as long as they love the creature and don't mind work," Akim spoke liltingly from his fourth tankard of ale. "There is no judging, only criticism!"

He laughed then and Rumi punched him tiredly. "Oh, that's right, Nova, he will absolutely tell you if you get it wrong."

"I would expect no less from a dragon trainer. I imagine one mistake can be your last around here," Nova replied, sipping her drink a little slower than before.

"Well, there is that, but he also has a ugly habit of explaining your own joke to you," Rumi laughed while a few others around them tittered. "Anyway, enough about this old stinking place. Tell us why you're here."

Nova swallowed, looking around. It was hard to tell, in the dark, with her mind muddied by the alcohol and her perception unclear, whether Rumi was enquiring or probing. She had a dry sense of humour, often staying stony faced when she told a joke, or resting into a face of indifference, but breaking out into unabashed laughter that both surprised and delighted Nova. Suddenly all the other trainers were facing her, a little too inconspicuously, including Charlie's. The firelight smattered on his skin, lit up the shiny scars on his forearms like silver. His face was still that youthful boys face she once knew, but slimmer, and impervious, like stone. Like a pale, freckled piece of coal.

"Well...I'm Nova," she made a small bow, to which the others yipped and clapped a little. Laughing, she continued, "I guess...I'm muggle-born, went to Hogwarts, did well enough, got a job at the Ministry for Magic and have worked there...And hated it ever since."

The other trainers toasted her mirthlessly. Rumin looked down the table subtly, but Nova caught it, before she asked her softly, "You worked in Mysteries, right?"

The faces were all turned to her again. Charlie was looking across the table now, his eyes suddenly sharp.

"Uh, yeah. Pretty miserable, boring work I'm afraid. Snape, he had some ins at the Ministry, did me a pretty big favour considering-"

"_The_ Snape? The sour faced, hook-nosed bastard I've heard nothing good about from every Hogwarts student passing through here? _That_ Snape did _you_, a muggleborn, a favour?!" Rumi looked shell-shocked. Nova couldn't deny her Head of House's reputation, but she bristled at the notion that a muggle born shouldn't be given preferential treatment. She inhaled sharply.

"He was my Head of House."

Rumi laughed, then stopped when she noticed Nova was serious. "Wait- you were in _Slytherin_? I thought that was the House that all bad folk came from? _Charlie?_"

Charlie looked up, a little awkwardly, avoiding Nova's eye contact. "Well, what I said was that it had a _reputation_ for that-"

Rumi scoffed. "No, no, you say all the time that Slytherins can't be trusted and that your entire family are weird about Snape teaching at Hogwarts at all. Wasn't he a _Death_eater?"

"Look, I was just oversimplifying-" Charlie started, before Akim stood imposingly swinging his tankard.

"I do not understand why all you, children of Hogwarts, you make like people are good, bad, one or another thing. I come from Durmstrang, and then I have dark, beautiful skin like my mother, so nobody trusts. People judge without knowing. They all think we're bad, violent, that we follow the Dark Lord and light little lumos candles for him in the night," at this he spat towards the fire. "But look at me, I am soft and adorable like Hungarian Horntail."

The other trainers, who previously looked awkwardly between Akim's speech and Nova's awe-stricken face, now laughed heartily. Akim leant on the table and peered into Nova's face.  
"I know a thing about reputation, but I know people also. You have shadows, but all good people do. Does not matter what silly house or school you come from. For people who...who..._proclaim! Proclaim, _yes, they are following light, you judge too much.

And this is what I think."

Akim then chocked his drink into hers, spilling it a little and finishing it off, his eyes not leaving her own, smiling mischievously.

"I couldn't agree more. Thank you, Akim," Nova said, swigging her own drink and glancing across the table to Charlie. "I guess it's harder to explain the complexities of the truth than it is to reiterate the same old trope."

The whisky had made her bold, but she wasn't sorry. There was a pause, loaded with the heat from the fire and the odd muffled belch from Akim. Nova merely smiled at her new friend and continued to drink. Eventually, Charlie lifted himself from the table, refilled his drink and took a seat by the fire, while the other trainers murmured.

"Hey, I'm sorry Nova, I didn't mean-" Rumi began, but Nova waved her off.

"You're not the first and you won't be the last."

"No, but I didn't mean that you shouldn't get favours, I just thought Snape was one of the bad ones-"

Even after all Snape had done for her, Nova herself wasn't entirely sure. She couldn't blame Rumi for believing everything they said about him.

"It's not your fault, really. I can't blame you. We do have a bad reputation, but if you see it more like, I dunno...Take dragons for instance. They are what they are. They breathe fire and some of them eat us whole, so wizards think they're dangerous. Maybe most of that's in self defence? But most of them, they probably just want to live in the forest and not be bothered, and you know, they're ok. I'm not a dragon, I know, but...We know them better than that, or you guys do, you know? But it's like saying every wizard that came out of Ravenclaw was smart, or Hufflepuffs were all hard working. Charlie and I both know a certain Hufflepuff that hated school work but worked very hard at pulling pranks and casting spells and now, she's a pretty fucking great Auror. We're judged on our presiding personality trait when the hat goes on...I was determined, I wanted to be the best witch there ever was that had come from a muggle family. Charlie'd filled me with stories on that first boat ride to the school...I already had a lot to prove. I spent my childhood pretty much on my own, so it didn't matter if I made no friends. At that moment, the hat saw a determined Slytherin who was prepared to do anything. But I was terrified too...I think in any other moment I could have been put in Gryffindor instead...Maybe."

Nova's mouth was moving and words were coming out, more than she'd spoken to another person who wasn't her family or Tonks in a long time. It felt dry.

A slightly older trainer called Celeste who wore huge, round glasses and had knots in her long brown hair reached down the table, around a tall grey haired young wizard next to her and patted her on the back. "I'm Hufflepuff, I think we must have missed each other at Hogwarts. But I knew some pretty lovely Slytherins and some real shitty, arse licking Huffs too. I guess it's what we're conditioned to think, but it's all a load of dragon-shit, isn't it?"

Nova smiled in relief. She wasn't at the Ministry any more, she wasn't around other ex-Hogwarts students who hadn't had a chance to challenge their pre-aligned beliefs. Akim was right. There wasn't judgement here, only criticism. And criticisms could be undone. The Sanctuary wasn't just a safe space for dragons, but open ground for people of all creeds with the creatures in common.

She thanked Celeste and toasted her new job, promising not to sing them all to sleep before the night was done, but not before glancing over to the fire, where Charlie sat in an old armchair, facing the flames.

It was only later when Nova was standing outside the Pub, wishing a good night to the others as they headed off to their beds, that she remembered Charlie was still sat beside the fire. She stepped as if to move toward the cabins, but stopped herself. She turned softly, careful of her inebriated clumsiness. She stood sideways in the door and looked towards the end of the room where embers were threatening to succumb to the ever pressing shadows. A dragon screeched a peaceful lament somewhere in the forest. She stepped lightly, the room dark but for the light from the flames, the sound of her boots thumping across the wooden floor like a heartbeat of one of the great beasts.

She took a seat in the armchair next to Charlie and stared at the flames, her hands clasped on her lap.

"Hi."

"Hey," Charlie's voice was as low and dusty as the charcoals in the grate.

Nova's voice was barely above a whisper. "We used to be friends. Really good friends."

The air was silent but for the crackling of the flames licking the hot stones, the heavy breath of something lost filling the space between them. Charlie inhaled as if to speak, but instead exhaled very slowly and quietly. He leaned forwards and looked at Nova then, with a look that was half a smile and half a grimace, but then stood up abruptly, turning and walking down the length of the room towards the half open door where the moonlight got in.

Nova shook her head to herself, rubbing her eyes with one hand, when the footsteps stopped.

A low voice came from the doorway.

"Meet me at seven am at the statue. I'll show you around."

Nova reached around the armchair to look where Charlie was silhouetted in the doorway, exalted briefly in the light, before he spoke, "It _is_ good to see you, Nova," and walked away.  
She turned and sank in her chair then, her knees up to her chin, her cheeks suddenly damp, and nestling her neck into her hand, where some white lines tattooed on her skin reminded her of her oldest friend.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Hey guys, self-isolation has got me in a productive mood and I find myself writing chapters for FUN! Hope everyone is staying safe. Really loving writing this, especially the flashbacks to Hogwarts. Thank you for the kind reviews and follows, it really inspires me to write more. Hopefully I can get a few more people reading! x_**

* * *

When Nova woke the next morning, it wasn't her head that felt heavy.  
She washed quickly and dressed in black work trousers and a khaki green over-shirt with large pockets and her floppy wool hat. She could feel the chill coming in through the glass window panes during the night and anticipated a cold day ahead of her. She was too preoccupied with trying to think of insulating spells as she thumped down a few steps to even notice Charlie standing in the middle of the path, arms folded in a thin wool over-shirt.  
"Hi," he started, "I was walking past...thought I'd just wait here. Seemed stupid to..."  
He spoke like he'd forgotten certain words, but they rang out clear in the early morning. His voice was resonant, like the echo of a tree falling. Nova had only reached the bottom step when he started walking, eager to be off, Nova jogging a little to catch up.  
"I appreciate the support," she said, rubbing her eyes. Charlie looked across at her, nodded with a faint smile and looked ahead towards the centre. "Firewhiskys pretty potent, eh? Local makes it for us."  
"You're telling me," Nova replied, rubbing her eyes. She'd come to this place bolstered and prepared to solitary life, to have to avoid Charlie, avoid the awkwardness and just try her best to do a good job. But here she was, cracking on like nothing had changed, like the years between them, the years separating their new selves from their school years had dissipated in the cold morning breeze. Because maybe that was the point.  
Charlie stopped outside of the Pub and pointed loosely towards it. "There's usually breakfast every morning. Recommend you stocking up, it's going to be a long day."  
Charlie looked away then, like he was finished and waiting for her to go in.  
"There anything without meat in it?" she asked.  
Charlie looked at her with a bemused look on his face. "You don't eat meat?"  
"Well, no. Not since... Doesn't make much sense, me loving creatures and then eating their sweet, juicy flesh," she said with a smile and a shrug.  
"Huh...Well, me neither. Most of us end up going off it... See enough gore to put you off a piece of steak. Don't tell my Mother, she'd think I wasn't eating enough," he laughed. Nova, in all but a fractured moment, saw Charlie she had known in school. There was a tether in him to home and she could find him, as she'd known him, on the other end of that line; his face opened and he smiled, his eyes flurried like kindling. He was handsome, had always been so. He'd grown into his age naturally. His face framed him perfectly.  
Nova smiled, her response automatic, a feeling of nostalgia and warmth in her chest. But then it was gone.  
"Don't look at me like that," he spoke, half laughing, but there was no mirth. Nova's smile vanished like water on a bonfire.  
"You know I can't anyway," Nova retorted coldly with a sigh. _So much for nothing changing_, she thought. She made to enter the Pub but he stopped her, a touch as quick and as fleeting as a Demiguise saw the future.  
"I didn't mean that way. I'm just- _merlins tits_, I'm not good at this," he fidgeted, rubbing his face.  
Nova sighed and looked at her feet, suddenly, horribly, shy.  
"It's just I saw you for the first time since I got here, that's all. The you that I know, or knew...that's it. No weird stuff," she said, before turning heel into the Pub, her stomach growling. She stopped at the door, and turned. He was facing the statue. "You know, if I had the choice, I wouldn't be able to. If there was a department for handing in skills you'd rather not have, I'd have shoved it through the door tied to a screaming mandrake as soon as I was able. It's been nothing but a burden to me."  
"You'd have been out of a job," Charlie turned around, the lines around his eyes softening a little, "Snape certainly would have liked you less."  
"Oh balls to Snape. I wouldn't have lost my best mate," she said pointedly. The words seemed to bob across the air and mingle with the woody scent of trees and distant bonfire smoke before smacking Charlie gently across his face.  
"Ok, No," he replied resignedly, smiling as he turned back toward the statue. She hadn't heard anyone call her No in a long time. "Go get us some breakfast."

They spent nearly the entire day by each other's side, sometimes comfortably and quietly, often awkwardly. Charlie showed her around the central part of the reservation; it would take days for her to see the whole thing. Even though at times, Nova felt their friendship may not have died completely on the coals, she surprised herself at how easy it was to walk the same steps, although she wasn't foolish enough to believe everything was back to normal. Where the old awkwardness might have been bred from teenage unfamiliarity, confusing feelings and immaturity in dealing with those things, this new discontent seemed more knowing, less embarrassed. Less innocent.  
The Sanctuary itself spanned for many miles, and so there were many steps. Often the trainers were required to visit other areas, but mostly the teams were self-sufficient. Nova saw Welsh Greens sleeping in shafts of autumn light hazing down between the dense canopy above. Peruvian Vipertooths were fed large hunks of meat whilst salivating at the brawny trainers around them. Great Ironbellies glistened in the afternoon light, their pale eyes glinting dangerously like rubies. Nova was stunned at the very size of them. As the light started to wane and they finished the Medica orientation, Nova suddenly sat down on her haunches, causing Charlie to glance twice, thinking she'd collapsed.  
"What are you doing?" he asked. Her hands were over her face and she raked them down her cheeks.  
"Fucking _Merlin_, they're cool, aren't they?" she said, her face still gazing off into the middle distance.  
Charlie laughed uncertainly. "You just wait 'til you're making up the chicken blood and brandy barrels for the Nursery."  
Nova stared hard at him, paling a little. She'd done a pretty impressive job of taking it all in her stride all day. Charlie was surprised she wasn't as fazed, but he reckoned he had her at the chicken blood.  
"...There's a _nursery_?" She smacked her head. "Of _course_ there is!"  
"Yeah..but you have to _kill some chickens_," Charlie said, miming breaking a neck and shoving it in a barrel.  
_"Dragon chicks-_"  
"Woah, wait, you don't get to work with the chicks just yet," Charlie said as he folded his arms. Nova was still on the earthen floor.  
"Why?" she demanded incredulously, waiting for him to say something. "Charlie? Nope, grudges don't count. Sorry. Clean slate, remember?"  
Charlie scuffed the ground a little. "Well, you know...it's not that-"  
"What is it then?" she sat back on her behind, her legs out wide. She grinned up at him, then. Charlie looked away, her eyes were open wide like a door and he didn't feel much like falling through. He scratched the back of his head, fiddling with his rat tail, looking elsewhere.  
Nova scrambled up on to her feet, brushing her behind, her eyebrow cocked. "You know they're the best place to start."  
"Of course they are, it's just-"  
"You're protective, I get that…" she started, a smile playing around her eyes. "But that's not it, is it? You enjoy showing people the babies, don't you?"  
There was a small silence when he looked hard at her, convinced she was reading his mind. But she'd already said she wouldn't, had never. Since. A small voice that sounded remarkably like his fathers' spoke quietly in his head. _Maybe she just knows you. That's not a thing to be so scared of.  
_Looking at Nova then was like looking at the baby dragons. Her eyes had the same openness and trust. There were no shadows, the ones yet to be implicated by growing up in a cruel world of scale and horn poachers. When he first started at the Sanctuary, he found his instinct was his most powerful tool. So why wasn't he using it with her?  
Charlie let a small smile break from his face. He could feel his skin flushing. "Alright. Fine! I love showing people the babies!"  
Nova exalted slightly, satisfied. "Knew it! Knew you were just a big pixie puff inside that rugged, exterior."  
"Ok, now I know you're really doing it," Charlie sneered jokingly at her. Nova laughed after a momentary hesitation before beckoning him to continue their walk through the tall trees and the adolescent Ridgebacks.  
"Give me a break, you just liked being called rugged," Nova glanced back at him, laughing.  
"Not at all. Used to it."  
Nova looked across to Charlie, who was smiling despite himself.  
"See," she nudged him with her shoulder.  
"See what?"  
"It doesn't have to be hard."

He looked across to her, her eyes hopeful before avoiding his gaze shyly. The shadow that was missing before seemed to have returned, the one that was always there from the day he'd met her. He wasn't able to identify it as a boy, but now, he saw it quite plainly. A sadness.  
And yet, when she looked through the trees to the dragons with such awe and respect, as they returned back to the village, she would inhale deeply and close her eyes, or look up through the trees...And it was as if she was free.

* * *

The fourth year Care of Magical Creatures class was standing in various poses of discomfort and self-consciousness in the falling snow, at the edge of the half frozen lake, in nothing but swimming attire.  
"Alright, you lot, wade in and see if you can't befriend a Merperson!" Kettleburn called, a mad smile on his face.  
The students looked around at each other before quickly looking at the floor again. The girls huddled together, holding their arms self-consciously over their chests, while the boys avoided looking and tried to brave it out and hold their hands together over their nether-regions. Charlie dared a look across at Nova who mouthed incredulously, _"He's absolutely mad!"_ The hair on her pale skin was raised so high she looked like she was charged by thunder and her lips turning blue. He laughed a little but focused back on his teacher. He felt a sharp nudge in his back.  
"G'wan Weasley. You go first. Everyone knows you're mad for fish-women," a lad called Dawner said a little too loudly.  
"Oi! They hear you call them fish-women and they'll gut you like a salmon, lad," Kettleburn called seriously and darkly over the complaining crowd.  
Dawner whispered closely in Charlie's ear as Kettleburn tried to coax the girls into the freezing shallows. _"Not if the snake doesn't get you first."  
_Charlie whipped round and looked up at the dark haired Gryffindor, who was laughing arrogantly to his friends. The cold wind coming in off the mountains whipped his long hair into his face as he silently challenged the taller boy. "You wouldn't even have the balls, Dawner." Deciding now that his silence was his ally, he turned around abruptly and waded into the freezing cold waters, each splash like fire on his bare legs.  
Nova had told Charlie a great deal about the Merpeople; she had watched them drift and dance through the water from her common room. It wasn't the first time they'd gone into the lake for a closer look, either. But now Charlie was caught between his pride and his mothers voice in his head screaming at him that he'd die a very cold death if he didn't get out of that water immediately. He continued to wade deeper and choked down the cry of shock as the water hit the top of his shorts. Somewhere behind him he heard the best part of his class cheering him on, Kettleburn (his favourite teacher) screaming his delight, but the voices were faded and half absent as the shock of the water sent violent shivers through his body. His toes had already gone numb. There was splashing behind him, and a body crashed into him, holding his arm tightly for support.  
_"Oh Merlins ARSE-CRACK it's COLD!"_ Nova shouted, her fingers digging into his left arm, her body close to his side. Without thinking, he instinctively grabbed her hand as they waded deeper into the murky depths, the water under their arms, their hands above the surface, gripping so tightly that the bones threatened to burst through their skin. He looked at her, she was exhaling quickly and deeply. He tried to speak through chattering teeth.  
"Yyyoou think, just, gggggget ourrrrheads...under-"  
"Wwwoon't be so b-aaaad?" Nova looked at him, her eyes wide, as though despite the pain of freezing needles all over her skin, she was utterly thrilled to be alive. She tried to grin but it looked like a grimace, which in turn made him laugh and grip her harder.  
"Chhharlie," she spoke through painful bursts of insane laughter as they became immobilised by the idea of dunking under the surface, tears in her eyes.  
"Wwwwhat?"  
"If I wwwwee... mmmmaybe it wwwill be...wwwwarmer?"  
Charlie barked out a laugh, completely blind of anything else around him but Nova and his own body, grasped together to try and preserve any matter of warmth. All the other small fears that usually consumed his mind seemed to have been utterly removed from his being; the seemingly distant but all-too-real fear of a long, slow, cold death consumed his mind and left no space for anything else.  
"Thisss iss ridiculousss," she said, jerking wildly.  
"Onnn thhhree?" Charlie turned to face her. He felt like the anchor. It was cold, but she clinged to him for strength and in turn it strengthened him. She nodded, seemingly unable to form words now.  
He counted down, their breaths rasped in, and they dunked their heads, the cold moving past discomfort into pain, icy shards piercing every inch of their skin.  
He felt as though he'd been under for minutes when a sudden dragging sensation pulled him backwards through the water, out of the surface, through the air and onto the banks of the lake.  
_"Professor Kettleburn! Are you _quite _mad?!_"  
The familiar chiding tones of McGonagall's voice called out behind him. The breeze that brushed against his skin felt warm, the snow was like hot pincers on his face. He looked around and saw Nova beside him in similar disarray. They grinned at each other, their bodies still for a moment before shuddering like a Bludger in containment. Her swimming shorts and vest were clung to her wet skin so that the shape of her body was clear to see. His chest felt tight. Her hair damp against her head, the water dripping onto the ground and turning slowly to ice. Her lips were purple against her pale face. He felt very tired as he looked down to his feet, his body tensing again.  
"Minerva, it is important that the students _understand_ the environments of the creatures they seek to learn about-"  
"Don't mention _seeking_ to me, Kettleburn! Weasley has a very important Quidditch game tomorrow and you seem determined to kill him!" He felt her strong hands pull him up to his feet and wrap her cloak around him. "Morgane, Nigella, help your classmate to her feet and bring her to the Hospital Wing with me..._Why_ are you gaping at me, child? _Now!_"

Charlie was still shivering when he woke up, although a lot warmer than before. He turned his head to find Nova tucked into a ball facing him, the same random bodily convulsions wracking her. Pomfrey had the fire cracked up and steaming potions were sat on their bedside tables. Nova pointed at it.  
"Drink it and eat the chocolate, or face the wrath of Pomfrey," she said, her lips still slightly blue. Behind her, a small pink nose edged over her shoulder and Polar emerged, curling up below her neck in an effort to bring her warmth.  
Charlie sat up, balling the blankets around him and taking the potion in his hands. He nodded at the ferret. "Where'd he come from?"  
Nova laughed. "Ha! Never believe it, but Nigella brought him down from our Dormitory. Said she thought I might want him."  
Charlie was mildly impressed. Nigella had been a lot kinder to Nova over the years, but it had taken time. She was still very much afraid of her. "So she's finally realised that being friends with you makes more sense."  
Nova shrugged, sitting up as well.  
"We're idiots," she said. "Didn't even see a merperson. All we got was _cold_. Anyway! What were you thinking Charlie? McGonagall's right, you have a match tomorrow."  
"I'm sick of Dawner and his cronies giving it the big one, and they'd never have done it," Charlie shrugged. "And you never let anyone get to you."  
Nova sipped on her warming potion, the steam covering her face slightly. "Ok, well, I'm glad...You're totally insane but I admire you a lot."  
Charlie grinned as he munched on his chocolate, looking up through the dark windows where night had now fallen. Nova noticed him looking.  
"We have to stay overnight, but I overheard Pomfrey saying you should be fine for tomorrows game. McGonagall said you'd never lost yet so she doubted you'd let the cold stop you anyway."  
There was a brief silence, the air warm but tight. Various scenes and pictures raced through Charlie's mind in the time it took to look away and take another sip of the potion, and not all of them about Quidditch.

Nova winked at him then, enjoying the look of pride on his face. The way his eyes seemed to linger on hers a bit longer than usual. She felt as though she was getting him back. Charlie had been withdrawn since the end of their third year, had only written a few times during the summer, and since their return to Hogwarts in September, had been oddly quiet around her. But this adventure had seemed to relax him; he was exhilarated. Nova had to think for a while before realising it was because he wasn't in his head, and neither was she.  
She stood up slowly, testing her feet, and shuffled over towards the fire with her chocolate in her hand. There was only one other person in the wing, a small second year who every now and again vomited loudly into a bucket.  
"Oh, this is good. Charlie, come over here," she said, sitting in her blankets in front of the roaring flames. They cascaded in reverse towards the flume of the chimney, like water going up a mountain instead of down. The sounds of his bare feet against the floor echoed in the almost empty room, and he sat beside her with a slow _flump.  
_Polar scooted down the folds of the warm fabric and sniffed around at the floor, seeming to decide that she was quite warm enough without him and that he'd settle in a small spiral of fur in front of the fireplace. "Don't you get all sooty, you, you know you don't like baths."  
Polar looked up at her, blinked, and tucked his head away from her.  
"You sound like my Mum," Charlie said quietly as he scratched the top of Polars head.  
Nova mumbled into her chest. "No I don't."  
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, sipping the potions and munching on the chocolate. Madame Pomfrey made an appearance and tutted at them both, but seeing as they were getting warm, she couldn't really complain and left them well alone. Eventually the warmth was reaching their bones, and Nova's eyes closed gently.

Charlie didn't dare move. He'd noticed her head lull as her eyes closed, her body slumping slowly and gently until her head landed softly on his shoulder. He looked down at her, careful not to move. Should he wake her? Would it make it awkward? She'd done it by accident, he was sure of that, but the possibility of her reactions made his stomach twist. A wave of anxiety threatened to send him into a panic, but the potion and the chocolate had made him calm in a way he wasn't used to. It gave him time to think.  
The weight of her head on his shoulders; they were broadening every year. The soft snore and the rise and fall of her chest. That had grown too. He stared intently into the flames, willing himself not to notice. He couldn't trust himself. Were his feelings just his body? He didn't feel like they were his. Ever since he came to Hogwarts, he had changed, all the time, and felt less and less like the child he was and wholly unprepared for the man he was becoming. His body did things without asking him first. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy these new sensations, he just didn't trust them. Charlie looked at other girls, the way they walked caught his eye. They asked him for help on Creatures homework and he couldn't refuse. It was that alone that made him distrust his thoughts, especially when it came to Nova. She was his best friend, and despite what his body told him, where his mind went, he couldn't know for certain that the reality would please him and it wasn't just _growing up_ that made him feel the way he did. In time, would he learn that his feelings were just temporary? A fun add on to an otherwise great friendship? One that could ruin everything? And anyway, how did he know she wasn't just reading him and playing him for a fool? It'd be easy. He was basically her only close friend.  
He'd tried going quiet around her. He thought that if he didn't give her much attention, she'd eventually turn away, find another friend, and save him the confusing feelings. Maybe then he would know. But she never did. When it came to friends, she was like a dog with a bone.  
His chest expanded with something like pride, and something else he had no experience of to know its name. He looked down at his hands, caught the scent of lake water on her hair. Nova was too good a friend to lose.  
But it was no use. Turned out, his thoughts turfed up no answers. Reckoned they never would. So in spite of everything, his head tipped, landing softly to rest on hers.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey guys, hoping everyone is safe and warm. England is a bit chilly and windy, I've found myself suddenly inspired to finish this thing! I've decided to try and move the story forward as I tend to lose myself in those little exchanges. Sorry, not sorry. It's coming on winter now, and someone's about to show up and rock the boat...**

**DC- Obvs, this is all inspired by JK's original work. 3**

* * *

A couple of months had gone by when there was a new arrival at the Sanctuary.

Nova was sitting on the steps of the Pub, tearing pieces off a banana and shovelling them in her mouth, waiting for Rumi to meet her. Rumi was mostly in charge of the adolescent dragons with injuries, rehabilitating them and sending them off into the wild once they were ready. It was there that Nova was working quite heavily; mostly clearing out enclosures, reinforcing protection spells, carrying meat to and fro. But every day, she would try calming the dragons. Just once. The energy it took to do so was exhausting. She'd had some luck with the babies, but as the dragons got bigger, so did the weight of the effort. The young Hebridean Black that she'd met on her first day had become used to her presence, although it was still very wary. It was her favourite breed so far. Its spiny black wings were batlike and unfolded so wide she thought they could block out sunlight. This one, Peter, would pad around his enclosure with grace and dignity, even with a splinted wing. But after weeks of working around him, singing to him, calming him, the strain of the effort was taking its toll. Her mind felt heavy, her chest becoming tighter as the days went on, despite the breathing exercises and lavender and chamomile potions she made herself every morning. Nevertheless, it was good honest work, and working occupied her mind. She was grateful for the distraction, even if she did land on her bed every night, asleep before she could remove her shoes.  
"Morning Unthank."  
Rumi appeared with her hands on her hips, ready for another days work. Nova got up readily.  
"Good to go when you are."  
They began walking when they heard a deep, distant crack coming from the main gates. Someone apparating. They looked at each other before turning around, unable to resist a peak, heading towards the long path toward the gates, where they saw Charlie standing with his arms folded before them as a tall man appeared through the smoke. The gates reformed.  
"Oh sure, this guy gets a welcome party but I had to sing to a fucking dragon to get anyone to notice," Nova mumbled. Rumi laughed beside her. She felt a warm feeling across her chest, something like belonging.  
"Well, none of us seemed to know about this guy either so maybe you're _both_ Slytherins," Rumi replied, her face the usual deadpan. Nova faked a chortle, watching the two men walk towards them.  
Charlie was at least a head and a half shorter than the other, but broader. Whereas her friend was brawn and muscle, the other seemed to move with an ease of confidence, agile, like a wampus. As he got closer, she saw that he was wearing a long black overcoat and an ordinary black jumper and trousers. His face was more handsome than she'd have openly admitted, and he was easily fifteen years older than them; he seemed to look at the world around him with an intensity that would have rivalled Snape's if not for the smile behind them. And when he did smile, there was an air of something malign. Nova wasn't in the habit of using Legilimens with others unless employed to, but her empathy was instinctive. The man was familiar and yet seemed surrounded by smoke. He felt like the glint of a knife in the darkness, a rose garden at twilight, and then nothing. It left her feeling bereft of something inexplicable. All she knew when she looked at him, was that she felt hollow.  
"What is it?" Rumi whispered, noticing her expression.  
Nova ignored her, distracted by drinking him in. Other than his eyes, there was nothing else that gave her pause. He spoke brightly to Charlie, and upon nearing the two women, greeted them congenially with a broad smile. His hair was short, slightly curly and light brown. His cheekbones were like the wings of a Vipertooth, smooth and high like an old portrait. She glanced at Charlie, who was looking at her intently.  
"Rumi, Nova, this is Will Rothstone. Another newbie. I need to drop him off with Cora to fill in some paperwork and show him around."  
Charlie's words sounded as though they were under water. Will was gazing at Nova, his eyes searching and bright like fireworks. She couldn't help feel like she was being prodded at. She stiffened as he turned to Rumi. "My pleasure, really!" Will turned to Charlie, looking humbled and a little tired. "I don't want to take up too much of your day, so perhaps you can drop me off where I need to be, I can get all the boring parts out of the way and we can all get to know each other later?"  
Charlie merely shrugged. "Already late, works for me."  
Charlie marched off towards the Reception hut. Rothstone nodded at them, narrowing his eyes curiously at Nova, smiled again broadly, and followed suit.  
Rumi looked at Nova once they were out of earshot. "If I liked men, I'd say that he was one stunning piece of Longhorn. But as I don't, I'd like to know what you think."  
Nova watched the two men walk away, not taking much notice. "_Wait here."_

Charlie heard his name, turned around. Nova jogged up to him, glanced to Rothstone on his right hand side and back at him suggestively.  
"Will, go on ahead, I'll catch up with you," Charlie said, looking up at the man as he turned around.  
"Of course," he replied with a small bow. Charlie's eyebrows furrowed.  
Once out of earshot, Charlie mumbled, "That was weird. Never thought I'd get a bloke here that _bowed_."  
Charlie was still looking strangely at Rothstone when Nova waved her hand in front of his face.  
"What is it?"  
Nova sighed. This was going to be difficult. She couldn't help feeling they'd been making tracks with each other. Establishing a friendship again. She'd have been happy with friendship. And now she was going to trigger all those memories.  
"I need you to listen to me very, very carefully, Charlie," she said quietly, certain that Will had disappeared into the office. Charlie looked at her curiously. "That guy, I don't know, but...he gave me...he gave me a very weird vibe."  
Nova noticed the swarm of doubt cross his face. He looked away briefly, down at his shoes, seeming to decide something, then looked back at her. "I thought you promised-"  
"I didn't. I won't. But you know it doesn't always work like that. I still get a fairly accurate feeling for a person when I meet them Charlie, without using Legilimens."  
Nova inhaled shakily, suddenly aware of Charlie and his _walls_. Saying the word out loud, edged them closer to the memory that drove them apart.  
"Well then…" he seemed to toss something over in his head, suddenly looking heavy and serious. "What did you feel?" he asked, his voice quiet.  
This wasn't Charlie as she'd known him at school. This was Charlie, one of the best and youngest dragon trainers there was. He was responsible for the dragons, for people, his colleagues, and she guessed, for her too.  
Nova looked around, trying to find the words. "Dark. Like a garden you can't find a way out of. A closed gate. A closed _mind._ It's like I've seen him before, but when I try, I get nothing."  
Charlie looked away for a moment. She knew that look.  
"It's not that unusual for a wizard to know _Occu-"  
_"Yes, I'm very aware of that fact, Charlie."  
There was an awkward pause, both avoiding each others' eyes. Charlie glanced back at the office. Nova rubbed her eyes.  
"Look, how many wizards and witches do you know, even here, in this village, the region even, who knows Occlumency?" She shuffled from foot to foot. "It might be nothing. But I _know._..You have to trust me on this. We can't be too careful, not with _everything that's going on."  
_Nova looked at him pointedly. She'd heard the rumours, she knew what happened to his Dad down in the Prophecies. She knew it all. Charlie side eyed her. He thought for a moment, fiddling with that damned rat tail of his.  
"Ok, ok," he waved a hand and avoided eye contact. "I'll keep an eye on him."  
Nova paused, weighing her words carefully. She'd been waiting for the right moment, to bring up the Ministry, why they'd sent her, why she didn't want to do their bidding. "Charlie, if what they're saying about Dumbledore-"  
Charlie twitched his head. Nova took the hint.  
"Not here." A curious, gentle look was on his face but his eyes were alert.  
Nova nodded, understanding. Sighed again, then felt the breath shorten in her chest slightly, as if the clouds had rolled in and she was about to be struck by lightning. Her heart hammered irregularly, then slowed again. She could feel Charlie's eyes on her. It made it worse.  
If she was honest with herself, she'd run to Romania away from the imminent war, but she still wanted to do _something_, to give back. Being here, with Charlie, she'd felt a peace she hadn't in a long while. Had risked thinking she could have what she used to have before sixth year. She looked at the closed door of the office again, swallowing the panic rising in her gut. There was something, a memory, in her head, that was only beginning to take shape. In a second, she knew the same shadow that had grown darker and heavier in Mysteries had followed her here, wrapping itself around her shoulders. She could run all she wanted, but it wasn't the cure, only a temporary solution.  
Charlie looked as if he was about to say something, his hand wavering close to her arm but not touching her, but he remained silent. She looked back at his handsome face.

She wanted to ask if she'd see him later, but didn't. She wanted to ask if he trusted her, but she didn't. She nodded at him, then rushed away, breathing deeply, her hand clenching and unclenching. Charlie's eyes were like an imprint on her mind.

* * *

The light was fading and a soft snowfall was peppering the ground when Rumi and Nova pushed their way into the Pub, shaking snowflakes off their hair, one of them sighing a little heavier than the other. The light and warmth of the fire was welcome on Nova's skin. She picked up a tankard of beer one of others had poured for her and headed straight for the fire, nursing her beer with her knees pulled to her chest. She'd done a good job distracting herself with her tasks that day; joking with Rumi, tending to Peter's enclosure, but her heart kept dancing over itself, as if everyone had watched her humiliate herself that first day. Whispered about her behind her back since. She knew it wasn't true, but the feeling had haunted her all day.  
Even now, she was desperate to be alone, to equalise, but couldn't bear the isolation of her own cabin. She gulped her beer and waited for some of the anxiety to numb, closing her eyes as the fire crackled to the tune of voices talking and laughing behind her.

"May I join you?" A disembodied voice spoke behind her chair, casting a warped shadow in front of the fire. She craned her face upwards, groaning inwardly. Will Rothstone smiled charmingly down at her before sitting himself down in the armchair opposite her. She noted the way he didn't wait for her to reply. The flames glittered in his eyes but she could find no light in them. She shuffled in her chair.  
Expecting him to say something, Nova watched his face, but he merely gazed with a smirk on his face, as if he could read something in the burning of the kindling she couldn't. The weight of his presence felt oppressive. He glanced at her, holding her eyes, and the feeling of being probed returned, as if he could see her clearly. Of course, he couldn't even if he wanted to, but she knew the feeling of someone trying very well.  
"How are you finding the Sanctuary, then?" he asked smoothly, directly. It seemed obvious to her that he recalled her, but she wasn't so confidence, arrogance of him, perhaps that was just his way. And how did he know she'd just started here? He sat in a way which presumed ownership that not even Charlie exuded. Nova stopped herself from sneering, shrugged tiredly and smiled.  
"Tiring," she took a swig of her drink.  
His eyebrow lifted slightly, but she noticed it. "Oh?"  
She waved her hand. "It's dragons. Not exactly filing paperwork at the Ministry."  
He nodded casually but she could see cogs turning in his head. "Well then, I don't blame you for the career change."  
"What gave it away?" she asked, deadpan. Right now she was trying to channel Rumi, and it was just about covering her exhaustion and impatience at the small talk.  
"You're cleaner than everyone else. And as an..._ex-_ministry man myself, I can just see it on you," he raised his glass of firewhiskey to her and took a drink, lingering to smile at her. She looked back at the fire.  
"So why are you here?"  
It might have been too direct, but she wanted him on his toes.  
"Same, really. Come from a good family," his eyes flickered towards her, as if assessing her reaction. She decided not to react. He knew who she was, she was still just piecing together the parts of him she words "good family" had a different connotation now, and she didn't want to come down on either side of the line, not with him.  
He tapped his glass, as if reminiscent, "Father wanted me in the family business."  
"And what business would that be?" Nova tried hard to maintain eye contact. If he was trying to pique her interest, she needed to do the same. He gazed back at her.  
"Physicians, mainly."  
"So you worked at Mungo's too?"  
Will paused. "For a time."  
"Thought you said you were a ministry man?" _Careful, Will, your story is slipping.  
_"I was...involved, in the ministry, I mean. Research. _Mysterious _ailments. That kind of thing."

_Mysterious ailments. _

Suddenly what she'd been piecing together finally made sense, and what she saw smacked her in the face. The feeling of shame was deep and reached to her very extremities. She caught her breath and occluded her thoughts before the realisation reached her expression. She brushed something invisible off of her trouser leg, looking at him directly._  
_"So, you've swapped one hospital for another, albeit in the wild woods and surrounded by dragons," she smirked. It didn't reach her deeply. She glanced behind her, looking for a dash of red in the dark, warm gloom of the pub, but coming up short.  
He shrugged. "Perhaps I'm the black sheep of the family, but the bureaucracy didn't suit me. Neither did the philanthropy, no matter where it got my old Dad."  
Nova narrowed her eyes, lingering on the way his smile seemed to stretch too far, as if he thought very hard about the impact of it and decided to use it all he could. A smile that wide was either infallibly honest or hiding a deep cavern of secrets. Nova held to the latter.  
"I didn't know hospitals were all that bureaucratic."  
"I thought working at the Ministry would have taught you a thing or two about how deep their reach extends," he said seriously, patronisingly. She raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. _Well?_ "I desire a little more freedom. My ideas don't always conflate with the Ministries."  
She tapped her glass. "There's not many left who'd disagree with that sentiment."  
He nodded, sipped his drink. The seconds stretched uncomfortably, like a bone that grows too big for its skin.  
"So what's the word from London? Skies were dark when I left."  
Rothstone glanced away, shifted in his chair, crossed one foot over the other. He flashed a dark look at Nova. The whole time she'd been at the Sanctuary word had been coming in like a slow drip; Death Eaters were breeding, letting their poison bleed into the veins of the country.  
"You know about the bridge?"  
She looked at him then, but he was gazing into the fire. The flames seemed to gleam brighter in his eyes, his high cheekbones a little paler under their light.  
"...I saw it. They're getting stronger," she said quietly.  
Will Rothstone took a final sip of his firewhisky, a strange smile on his face.

_"Seems you got out just in time."_

There were no more pleasantries after that. Nova made a show of finishing her drink, gazing dolefully into the fire, and excusing herself from his company.  
She felt his eyes on her as she left, the shadow fitting more snugly around her shoulders.

* * *

Nova curled up in the window nook of the Slytherin common room, the dull green light from the water of the lake outside shimmering through the glass. She looked up from her book occasionally to watch the grindylows chase each other through weeds, or see the blade-like tail of a merperson cut through the long grass, wavering as though a soft wind were blowing through it. She lay on her back, her feet resting on the stone wall in front of her, head propped up on a dusty green pillow. The sound of laughter from the great hearth reverberated off the great stone walls as she looked upwards to her right, to the great glass domed roof where the sunlight from above the surface lake glittered down, casting dancing refractions across the great rugs covering the stone floors. The other houses could say what they liked about her common room, having never been, but it was quiet. Peaceful. Desks littered with papers of designs and ideas, discussions about politics under reading lamps that were always on, a portion of the floor for practising defence against the dark arts, balconies with reading chairs and sofas where couples were usually holed up, shouting insults down at classmates who teased them from below. It was dusty, it was green velvet, it was warm and amniotic. Like being in the womb. Nobody in Slytherin had to pretend to be an impermeable diamond inside their common room, here, they were rough, but sincere. For Nova at least, it was a safe space.

She brought the parchment paper out from where she'd lodged it at the back of the book, and started scribing a letter to her parents. She'd head up to the Owlery after dinner to send it, ask if Charlie wanted to join for a walk. Lately he'd had his head so far up Kettleburns arse he barely heard her when she spoke, never mind his time spent on prefect duties. Or the fact he made Gryffindor captain last year. For all he said he hated the limelight, he was very good at being in it.  
Her quill hesitated on the paper, and she looked back out of the window, the feather brushing her chin softly, absentmindedly. It was sixth year, and still, _nothing_. Or at least, not in the sense that she thought she wanted _something_. It was a heady mix of apprehension and excitement, giddiness and confusion. Nothing had changed between them; their friendship continued on its usual trajectory, the only difference being that they were a little closer, physically. She wondered, too often, if she confused his arm wrapping around her shoulder jovially after a successful Quidditch game for something more, or if he was just still buzzed from the games, all of which she attended. The only time she didn't support him was in his games against Slytherin, and even then shouted friendly insults at him from the stands, making him grin and usually find the snitch even quicker, much to the dismay of the other Slytherins around her. At the very least, she knew she couldn't be criticised for betraying her house. Didn't she try to distract him?  
Nevertheless, she knew he'd win anyway; everyone was talking about how he could play for England. But he'd punch her in the arm for it, and she'd kick him in the leg, and they'd laugh, walk back up to the castle with the rest of the Gryffindors and their supporters, and for a moment, Nova would think she was part of the crowd, that she didn't just have Charlie, or a little bit of Tonks here ans there. She pretended she belonged somewhere. Not to mention she noticed his smell more, smoked like wood, or the way his height had finally caught up with her own, his stature broadened despite his impressive agility on a broom. His hands were strong, mud under his fingernails. Under that arm, with Polar racing backwards and forwards along it, she felt whole. It was only in early sixth year, when his arm would slink off from her shoulders, when she'd watch Charlie disappear, without so much as a reluctant smile in her direction, off to his common room with that same jubilant group, girls flocking around him, laughing too loudly and glancing back cruelly at her standing alone in the entrance hall, that the depth of her loneliness realised her feelings for him.

And she found another friend. Nigella.

She'd come up behind her, muttering something like 'Gryffindor girls are so _showy, _aren't they?' and Nova turned to see Nigella sneering at them before looking at her and smiling mischievously. After that, Nigella sat next to Nova more often in classes and mealtimes, which confused Charlie a little, even Nova too. It hadn't made a difference anyway, the time she spent with him was becoming fewer and further between with exams on the horizon and their timetables being different. He was determined to work at the Sanctuary in Romania, which she had considered, but Snape had pushed her to opt for Potions, Charms, Herbology and DADA. To work in Mysteries department, he'd said, she would need a wide range of knowledge to rely on. She managed to find time to visit Kettleburn and even Hagrid to get her fix of creatures, but it meant the time spent with Charlie was fewer and farther between. Nigella, who at some point along the years had ditched Morgane for reasons Nova assumed to be about Nigella's sexuality, became a fixture by her side. She would accompany her back to their common room after every meal and quidditch match, call Charlie a _hole_ for never inviting her up there with him, and talk about the girls she liked in other houses, but wouldn't _dare_ ask out_. _At first, Nova felt weird about this new person by her side, but started to realise that maybe she didn't have to be so cagey, or shut off. Someone was trying to be her friend, and maybe Nigella _had _been intimidated by her in first year and was simply doing her best to make up for it. After all, she never did apologise. But in recognising her own fear of letting her guard down, Nova saw Nigella's own warped defence mechanism. That's when Nova apologised, properly, letting the guardwall collapse a little, explaining everything, short of telling her about her Legilimency. She still had her promise to Snape to keep.  
Nevertheless, Nova had to admit that it was nice having a girl to talk to, about girl stuff, and about Charlie. Even if Nigella had her eyes on girls, she knew what it was like to feel confused.

Nova began her letter, trying to push thoughts of her best friend out of her mind. She updated her parents about how her studies for exams were going, admitting that she was struggling with juggling it all, and was almost finished when a shadow blocked out the light beside her.  
"Oi," Nigella said warmly. Nova looked up, shielded her eyes. "Yes?"  
Nigella moved Nova's legs to sit down as she sat up against the other wall, her face mischievous. "You heard about this?"  
Nigella handed her a piece of parchment that had clearly been pinned somewhere, grinning.

_To celebrate the hard work of students finishing their exams  
__and to announce  
__The Winner of the Prestigious Quidditch Cup  
__We invite all  
__fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh year  
__students to  
__The End Of Year Ball!  
__Friday 3rd July, 7pm, The Great Hall_

_Dresscode: Desirable Dress-robes_

Nova looked up at Nigella blankly, who made a low moaning sound before they burst out in nervous grins.  
"So?" Nigella asked, grabbing the paper back, before whispering, "You should ask Charlie to be your date!"  
Nova looked around the common room, where news of the ball in a month was starting to spread. A few people were already bowing and showing off their proficiency of formal dances. She groaned a little. "I dunno...This isn't really his thing. He'd rather stick his wand in his eye."  
"Pfft," Nigella splurted. "Look. I know you're not really sure how you feel. And I don't think he's sure either. But if seeing you dressed up in your best gown, and you seeing him in some..._desirable _dress robes- I think Dumbledore must have written this- _anyway_, if that doesn't at least tell you _something_, then nothing will. Tell him the only way to avoid the party is to go with you, and I don't know...You can hide down by the lake together." Nigella finished with a wink, at which point Nova punched her in the leg. Silent for a moment, before groaning again out of awkwardness and anxiety, standing up, staring out at the merpeople darting through the depths, safe in the murk.  
_"Argh,_ I still don't know. He's probably already been asked by one of those tarts in his house, you saw the way Chelsea Fischer held his hand last week. They're as hungry as Dementors for a bloody snog."  
The memory of it sent a feeling of nausea down to her stomach. She wasn't confident it _was _jealousy, really, but the idea that she'd been left behind. That whatever he _might_ have done with Chelsea, she wouldn't be able to keep up with. That she wasn't his first.

_Jealousy, then._

Nigella sighed heavily, as if she was tired of saying the same thing. "Yeah, and I'm _telling_ you I saw him let go of her nearly as quickly as she clawed at him. You two have something. Maybe it is just friendship, but isn't it worth a go? I'd give anything to ask someone to this dance."  
Nova felt bad, then. She had an awful habit of making things about her.  
"I heard that Poppy Montigue likes girls? Overheard some Ravenclaws _gossiping_. She's really pretty," Nigella's face brightened for a moment, considering Poppy Montague. "Let's keep an eye on her, see if we can't sound her out for a date," Nova finished, satisfied she'd returned the favour. She wasn't terribly good at it, but she was discovering more and more that friendship with girls had everything to do with effort. She didn't even think she could rely on her friendship with Charlie as a basis. As they made their way through the years at Hogwarts, she was feeling more and more that there'd always been something else pushing them together.  
"You think Tonks is into girls?" Nigella asked, picking at a hole in her jeans nonchalantly. Nova cocked her head.  
"You like Tonks?"  
Nigella shrugged. "Don't _not_ like her."  
"Well, I'm not surprised. But whenever she does talk about stuff like that, she mostly talks about older boys. I don't know, I haven't spoken to her in a while. But she might know? She has ways," Nova offered. Nigella hid her disappointment like someone who expected it, but looked up at her with optimistic eyes and smiled cunningly.  
"Sure. Let's do it. But only if you promise to ask Charlie."  
Nigella stared her down with dark eyes, before Nova caved, the pressure rising in her chest. "Fine, I'll ask Charlie."  
The thought made her want to be sick and laugh out loud all at the same time.  
A voice sounded out behind her suddenly. "You're asking Charlie Weasley to this ball? You could have anyone in Slytherin and you ask _that_ boring bollock?"  
Nova turned and found Christian Locke standing behind her, dirty brown hair slicked away from his forehead in a middle parting. He was good looking, but that was his only saving grace. Everything else about him was as ugly as a troll.  
Nova narrowed her eyes, feeling him out. He left her feeling icky. She and Nigella had long discussed their suspicions that Locke's family were sympathisers (Nigella's grandfather was head of an organisation that supported sentencing of sympathisers to pay for their weaknesses during the war), but had no evidence other than his suggestiveness. Nova was determined to out him to Snape, but not entirely sure that he would do anything about it. His preferential treatment to his own knew no bounds.  
"I don't believe I was talking to you," she countered.  
"And I don't believe Slytherins should be cosying up with other houses," he said darkly, moving around her like a snake to sit next to Nigella, who promptly got up in repulsion.  
"Go out with your sister then," Nova retorted, turning around and ignoring the stare of Locke's younger sister, Catrina from one of the desks. "If you want to keep your blood pure, that's the only way to do it."  
There were titters of laughter from around the common room as Nova and Nigella stalked away, smirking at some of their supporters.  
"Laugh now, Unthank," she heard him call behind her. "Being a Slytherin won't protect you in the years to come. You'll have to prove your loyalty more than anyone else here."  
Nova stopped, the pressure in her chest mounting to an end she wasn't confident was anger or sadness. Nigella tried to pull her away, but she was determined. A few other students called out.  
"_Uncalled for, Locke,"  
_"_Watch yourself,_"  
"_What's that supposed to mean?"_  
"Just what, exactly, are you saying?" she asked slowly, quietly. The common room became deathly quiet. The crackle of the fire did nothing to break the tension, the gloom of the water seemed to darken.  
Locke's face seemed to argue with itself, between hardening with pride, or backing down.  
"_Not worth it,"_ someone muttered from the side, but not to her. Their memories weren't so short that they'd forgotten what she did to Nigella, their imaginations vivid enough to picture what she could do now, five years on.  
"Maybe we're all too comfortably here. We're forgetting our place, which is above everyone in this school. We were chosen to represent Salazar Slytherin, to defend him. It won't be long before we have to choose sides again. Anyone who thinks otherwise is a fool," Locke stood up, addressing everyone. Quite a few people booed, swore at him, but Nova noticed the other quiet ones, the weak ones, glancing at each other. She was tired of pandering to this nonsense.  
"Salazar Slytherin was a bigoted _arsehole_ who was kicked out of Hogwarts three to one by the other founders. What _did_ he do other than spread hate? He was a loser," Nova called across the room, "He couldn't even stick around to finish the job. He was lazy. All he had was words, words that you follow because you're scared that you're just like him. Poor, lazy, and weak. I'm a Slytherin, I'm also muggle born. By your beliefs, I don't belong here. But here I am. There's no logic to your idiocy. Now shut your mouth and stop boring everyone with your _poison_."

Nova stormed away, leaving mouths agape, unsure as to whether they ought to applaud, scared to in case doing so would bring the wrath of Salazar himself down on them.  
Nova could feel it, the bristling, the wanting to cheer but not, for that fear was toxic and catching, and it was bred into the very foundations of their House.


	8. Chapter 8

Nova leaned heavily against the inside of her front door, a dark feeling spreading over her shoulders, like the rose tinted glasses had not only come off but smashed into small shards on the floor. Just like at school, at the Ministry. Believing in safety, complacence even, for a while just long enough to feel safe, before the cover being thrown off to reveal the cold reality underneath. It left her feeling hollow, and the space around her neck empty.

She jumped at a sudden knock on the door. When she opened it, Charlie turned around to face her. If her door was opening, Charlie was usually there.  
"Hey, I tried to catch you earlier, but Rumi said you left early, said you didn't look...well, she said...Everything ok?"  
Nova avoided looking at him. 'Yeah, I just...it's nothing. I just need some chocolate and an early night, I think."  
Charlie paused, noting the way her smile didn't reach her eyes. "You've been working really hard. Days are long here, nobody's going to blame you for taking a day off. I've been known to shirk responsibilities myself sometimes."  
Nova tried to smile back at his awkward grin, but ended up gazing at the floor. Her thoughts just swam around in her head, unable to swim to shore. She just didn't have the strength to meet it. Floundering, she sighed into her hand and waved her hands away as if it would wave away the feeling, like it was nothing. Her mouth was empty of words. Before she had time to refuse him, Charlie was sidling past and closing the door around her. "I'm coming in, if that's alright with you."  
He lit the fire aptly with his wand, the light of which bounced around the dark twilit room. Nova could feel a sob scratching the back of her throat when he noticed the single chair by the fire, and, not reacting, merely conjured another with his wand. What appeared was a slightly rickety, floral armchair with holes that was too big for the room. He sat in it abruptly, trying to hide it. She knew she was being ridiculous, she had more than she'd ever had. Why couldn't she just be happy?  
"I was never that good at Transfiguration. _No_, sit down," he said softly with a small smile, patting the chair next to him. "It's not great but it's actually pretty comfortable. Would you rather-?"  
Nova looked at Charlie, at his chair that he had made, by her fire, in her house, when two months ago he could barely look her in the eye. It filled the void with a surge of familiarity and belonging, and so she nodded with a wry smile as she tried to keep in tears. Charlie moved over to the other chair as she lowered herself in, bringing her knees up to her chest, and rubbing her face and sighing heavily.  
Charlie waited patiently. She could feel his gaze leaving imprints on her skin again as she looked at the flames in the fire.  
"I just get like this sometimes." Nova shrugged dismissively.  
Charlie shuffled in his seat and leaned forward. She looked at him nervously, waiting for him to say something, to act uncomfortable, but he didn't. His eyes were open and calm. The feeling she had this morning, of him no longer being Charlie at school, but Charlie in charge, came back to her. "I haven't had a blip like this for a while. Or at least, I forgot that I could feel like this, 'cos since getting here...a weight's come off. But working in _Mysteries,_ I felt like this all the time."  
"What does it feel like?" Charlie asked softly.  
Nova hesitated. "Nothing. It feels like nothing."  
Charlie looked around, summoned the chocolate from where she'd kept it, breaking her off a piece. "You know, after sixth year. I felt a bit like that. Went away once I left Hogwarts, after I left home."  
She looked up at him then, chewing on the chocolate that filled her with warmth and a tingling in her fingers, but his words filled her with a new kind of dread. Sixth year?  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah. Feels like...It kinda feels like how I imagine Peter feels. Cooped up in the shadows of the trees. Not able to fly. Sometimes though, I think he doesn't want to. Like he's scared to now...I know that's stupid, he's a _dragon_...But anyway...Like he's scared to try. That was me. So I think I blocked everything out..."  
His words broke the dam that was already cracking in her mind, and, covering her face and looking away, the tears burst forth from her eyes silently like watery pearls.

Charlie looked around him helplessly. "Shit, sorry Nova, I didn't mean-"  
She inhaled roughly, shaking her head and shielding her face, looking towards the fire. She was obviously embarrassed, but something else, too.  
"I really didn't want it to be like this,' she murmured between sniffs.  
"What do you mean?" Charlie asked softly, possibilities of answers flitting through his brain like beautiful, golden snitches.  
She wiped her face, ate some more chocolate, sighing. She rose to her feet and started adding herbs from various jars on the mantle to a pot over the fire. "_Aguamenti,_" she said softly, running her hand through her hair as the pot filled with water. She turned to look at him, still trying to contain the flood. The sight of her hand unclenching and clenching again obsessively took Charlie straight back to the lake shore. Nerves tickled his chest and the ends of his fingers before he steadied them. Working with dragons enabled that in a person.  
"I've been trying to find the right time. To tell you. I just thought- If I came right out with it, as soon as I got here, you'd never trust me. I wanted you to see that I'm not a Ministry woman, I've never been happier than these two months-"  
Charlie stiffened.  
_Merlin, _he should have expected this, really. He chastised himself for not being careful enough. Dumbledore had eyes and ears in the Ministry, had told him to recruit as many witches and wizards into the Order as possible, and to be careful of anyone the Ministry sent out to the reservation. When Nova appeared, he didn't want to believe it. Or, maybe, he just didn't want it to be her. _What an idiot.  
_"Nova," he spoke, not softly. "I need you to be very careful about what you say next."

He wanted to give her a chance, he really did. He wasn't the boy he was in school, but he'd felt how easily they'd become friends again. It wasn't a big deal, he'd been telling himself, but she'd had the audacity to fit in at the Sanctuary, back into his life, like his wand to his hand. But _he_ had a responsibility now; it was bigger than himself, bigger than their teenage fallout, bigger than the dragons themselves, and history or no history, he wasn't about to jeopardise that.  
Nova looked at him and frowned, as if his words were cold and she'd felt the draught of them. Her eyes pink from the tears, she cast a quietening charm around the walls of her cabin. Charlie didn't bother telling her he'd already cast one before knocking on her door. He told himself it was to talk about Dumbledore, but the other thing taunted him from a dustier corner of his mind.  
"Alright," she spoke softly, not looking at him, her eyes fixed on the pot of water. "...I was sent here by the Ministry. To inform them of what you were doing here, to let them know if Dumbledore was interfering; planning a war, involving the dragons."  
Nova's words rang out quietly in the room. Charlie sank back in his chair, his eyes also on the pot over the fire.  
"Just when I thought you were on our side," he mumbled thoughtlessly, thoughts tumbling over in his mind like he was riding a faulty broomstick. If the Ministry were sending spies, it confirmed the system was being undermined, and by the wrong people. He told himself he had to be cold, he had to consider an ulterior motive behind their rekindled friendship, not just for himself, but everyone at the Sanctuary. But she merely stared, as if it was expected, the emptiness in her eyes remaining, making the pit in Charlie's stomach deepen. The nerves he felt at the end of his fingertips had deadened.  
She was right. This wasn't how he thought this conversation was going to go.  
"_They're_ not on _our_ side, Charlie. You heard about the attacks in London, they're increasing. Scrimgeour's line is touting safety and security but we both know that won't work. He's nearly as paranoid as Fudge, damn near terrified of being perceived as weak, so he's detaining anyone and everyone to make it seem like he's achieving something. The Ministry is changing, Charlie, and not for the better. The information in Mysteries is... I know what happened down there, with Potter and his friends, with Lestrange... If they think they couldn't infiltrate again-"  
_They? _Charlie held up his hand. "You worked in Mysteries."  
Nova paused, nodded. "Yes."  
Charlie hadn't asked, hadn't probed. He heard whoever came out of Mysteries carried a Fidelius charm or something similar, to protect its secrets. But if she couldn't tell him about her role there, how could he trust her? He wanted to. The image of a giant snake attacking his Dad played over and over in his mind. He hadn't been there.  
Nova looked strangled, her eyes becoming darker. She rubbed her throat. "Charlie, I'm sworn-"  
He gestured with his hand. "Fine."

Nova stared at Charlie impatiently. Did he have to interrupt? He was making this so much harder by arrogantly assuming he knew what she was going to say. She _would_ tell him everything, but he'd have to be willing.  
"Charlie, I'm sworn, I'm a keeper of my own secret. I can tell you, but you cannot pass it on. Not even to Dumbledore."  
Charlie looked up at her through hooded eyes. "I trust Dumbledore with my life."  
Nova had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. "You don't think I do? _No_. What I mean is, you _literally_ can't. As a secondary keeper-"  
"Right, right. I understand," he replied rashly, gaining an impatient sigh from Nova.  
"...So?"  
Charlie paused. He looked at the fire sadly, his eyes flickering as much as the flames, scratched his short beard. "Is it even relevant?"  
"What?" she whispered. She turned back to the bubbling water in the squealing pot when he stayed quiet a moment too long, charmed it into a mug. She offered him a cup hesitantly, her hand outstretched towards him, but he was just gazing into the flames.  
"Whatever you did in Mysteries, does it even matter? Does it make a difference to the fact you were sent here to spy on us, on the dragons? Does it matter that you betrayed my trust?  
_Again?_"

His words were like hot coals on her heart.  
The hollowed out part inside of her carved ever deeper, more cavernous. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her. Her eyes filled with tears. She didn't have enough in her to be defensive. She knew how this looked, had prepared herself for his reaction, how it must have felt for him. But it triggered old hurts as though the wound had just been inflicted that morning.  
She brought the mug back to her chest, feeling the heat burn her fingers. A choking sensation rose in her throat, and she turned away, not for the first time, blinking away the hurt and the fury she wouldn't justify him to see. Just like last time.

As if he never knew her at all.

* * *

Nova sat in the stands, trying to study for her looming DADA exam while Charlie flew overhead, practising manoeuvres for the Quidditch final. He was determined to catch the snitch in record time. The wind swept at her hair this high up, distracting her from trying to cast her patronus properly as she brushed and puffed it out of her face.  
"You know, if you spent less time brushing your bloody hair you'd have cast it by now," Charlie's voice teased, resting forward on his broom languidly.  
Nova harrumphed, tried again. "Expecto patronum!"  
A fat gush of silver emanated from her wand, but thinned and diminished towards the floor. She hadn't yet reached corporeal form. "I suppose you're the expert then?"  
Charlie shrugged with a grin. "I just think about being at the Sanctuary in a year and there it is."  
Nova looked questioningly at him before jabbing her wand in his direction. "You can't imagine stuff, Charlie, it has to be a memory! You're such a bloody..._arrogant_...liar!"  
He held his hands up, balancing perfectly on his broom, still grinning. Nova grunted, giving him the finger. Laughing, he yelled "Watch this!" as he pulled up and performed a backwards vertical u-turn, heading straight towards the ground before pulling up just before brushing the ground. He was back, not even breathless, before Nova could catch hers. "Snitch doesn't stand a bloody chance."  
"Very good Charlie," she said, her hands on her hips. She tried to cast again, to no avail. "What's your memory?"  
Charlie glanced away before shrugging and smiling again. "Not telling."  
Nova made to grab the end of his broom but he was too quick. "Show me then!"  
Charlie bounced his head from side to side, conceding and jumping off his broom into the seats. "Fine, fine. But only because it's glorious and I care...About your education."  
Nova watched, grateful that the blush on her cheeks could be attributed to the cold. He reached for his wand, his almost too long hair falling into his eyes, his face weatherbeaten but bright. He was so confident. Of course he was happy enough to cast a Patronus. He had everything. He took a deep breath and exhaled, glancing sideways. Or _was_ that a nervousness she saw? He focused forward, wand held out. "Expecto patronum!"  
From the end of his wand came a beautiful dragon, unfurling its wings and perching on the edge of the stands before heading off into the air. Charlie flew him around a few times before discharging it, a little sadly, its lithe form effervescing into the air.  
"Was that a Welsh green?" she asked, in awe. Charlie looked at her happily.  
"Yeah! First dragon I ever saw. Makes sense, I guess," Charlie said, his hands on his hips. He seemed to hesitate, before grinning again and launching one of his arms around her shoulder, shaking her. "I love having a friend who knows dragons."  
Nova chuckled, looking down, knowing to look him in the face would bring it quite a lot closer to hers. Her chest tightened. "Yeah well, hard not to."  
_Now or never_. "Hey I was won-"  
"Did you hear about this ball?" Charlie asked, shaking her a little. Well, at least she didn't have to bring it up now.  
"Yeah, Nigella all but threw the poster at me," Nova smiled, trying to look anywhere else but directly at him. His arm loosened from her shoulder and he went to sit on the edge of the stands. "I was wondering, just, 'cos it'll be pretty lame, right, but if we went together-"  
"You want to go with me?" Charlie asked, his mouth open slightly.  
Nova had to stop her hand from clenching. He knew what it meant when that happened. She needed to just play it cool. She rested her back against the seat behind her. She wasn't comfortable.  
"It was just an idea. You've probably been asked already, Mr Cool Prefect Quidditch Captain," she smiled mockingly, flicking her wand through her fingers.  
Charlie coughed. "No-well-yeah, I've been asked but...I dunno. I don't think I'll go."  
"I _said_ you'd rather stick a wand in your eye," Nova said, shrugging.  
"Oh yeah?" Charlie asked brightly, climbing on the edge of the stands, balancing with his broom in one hand. "Who'd you say that to?"  
"Surprise! She has other friends!" Nova teased. She enjoyed making him feel guilty for never having enough time for her anymore. "She said if I didn't really fancy going I should just ask you, seeing as you probably wouldn't either. Then at least she wouldn't be on her own. It's not a terrible idea, is it?" she asked softly, looking at him for just long enough before she felt physically uncomfortable. _Well played, Nova.  
_Charlie squirmed a little, but was smiling at her. "I dunno…"  
"Oh come on. Let's do it. We can always escape if we want to," Nova hesitated. "I never see you enough as it is."  
He looked sideways at her. "We're together now!"  
Nova gave him a look. "You know what I mean! Between exams and all your duties and my classes with Snape, I've only seen you for ten minutes here or there."  
Charlie seemed to decide something, shaking his head a little, then jumped down from the edge and came to sit next to her. "You know what? Sure. Let's go. Promise me though, if it gets stupid, you won't make me feel bad if I leave."  
His eyes glistened in the sun as it managed to fight through the cloud cover. She smiled back. "Deal. But if it gets stupid, don't leave without me."  
Charlie sighed happily, taking the punch she landed on his shoulder jovially, evidently pleased with the outcome. Nova should have felt relaxed but instead, felt more nervous than before.  
Charlie said something, before getting up and grabbing his broom, and jokingly recommending their first outing to Hogsmead for a happy memory.  
He flew off out into the pitch, turning circles and switching directions faster than the light itself.  
Nova's heart sank. She looked at her wand, his words going round and round in her head, his smile never-ending.  
"_I'd rather go with a friend than a girl anyway."_

Charlie felt the wind whip against his face as he decided to fly higher, intent on disappearing into the clouds. When he was confident he was invisible, he rested on the front of his broomstick and gazed off into the cloud cover that was coming in. He'd only said it in case he bailed, as insurance against him being utterly useless. He'd made a point of not looking back at her. He didn't want to gauge her reaction. He was happier not knowing. It was easier not bothering.  
But he knew, underneath all the worry and stupidity, he was really rather happy he was going with her.  
Bill would torment him mercilessly when he found out.  
Instead of thinking any more about it, he flew, testing just how fast he could dive, how late he could leave it before saving himself from crashing into the pitch below.

* * *

Charlie wanted to leave. He wanted to get up, to storm out, to order her to be gone by morning, but he couldn't. They were already on a train, and it was taking them both...onwards. In his heart, a place he didn't attend to if he was honest with himself, he knew he didn't _want_ to get off.  
In a moment, Nova turned around decisively, her face stony and impassive. He couldn't bear the emotion in her eyes, the depths of the sadness he'd only just noticed as an adult. She'd been sent here to spy on him! His own hurt was enough that it felt like someone had cast a full body bind on him, but when he thought of the trainers, the dragons she could have hurt with the information she passed back...She couldn't comprehend the lengths he would go to to protect them.  
She kneeled on the floor, placing the steaming mug on the hearth, exhaling shakily. She hesitated for a moment before speaking so quietly he almost didn't hear.

"Your _trust_ wasn't the only thing broken that day, Charlie Weasley."

Her parry was sharp, and it hit its mark. The tear that escaped down her cheek was like the nerves creeping down his spine. His hand gripping the arm of the chair felt clammy. She continued, her words barely a whisper, her voice cracking over the vowels, like the distance between words was too far to jump and she kept missing the landing.  
Charlie started to speak but stopped, knowing she had him; he couldn't accuse her of using their past as a stick to beat the other with, because _he already had.  
_"I haven't sent anything back to them and I plan not to, unless you want me to. I will tell them anything, Charlie, whatever will help. I'd do anything for- I'm _not_ a Ministry woman. I never was. I was only there because Snape groomed me for it, told me it was a perfect fit. A few years there and I'd have enough money and information to do whatever I wanted. But once you're in, you're in, they say. Never safe. It's worse now. I wanted to resign years ago, Fudge wouldn't let anyone out of the department, said he couldn't risk people running to Dumbledore. It's only since Scrimgeour came in that he's widened the net, investigating everything, even if it's leading him nowhere. Sending me here, it was an empty task. But it meant I could escape, I could be free. I could be who I was when...well, when-"  
"How can I trust that you're telling me the truth? Why now? How do I know you're not just manipulating me to let you stay?" Charlie asked abruptly.  
He stared at her, waiting for her to respond, but she didn't. Her face told him everything she was feeling; her mouth hung open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowed into those bold crossed wands, signalling her hurt. He couldn't bear her eyes, like daggers on his skin. He found himself recanting what he'd learned about Occlumency, suddenly afraid of showing his own emotions as nakedly. But it was a bad idea. Nova could see him doing it, could feel it. The depth of her pain now doubled the depth he felt that night. Her face hardened, her nostrils flaring. Suddenly she reached forward and grabbed his left wrist, currently supporting his head, and yanked it so his hand held her forearm, her wand pointing at the join. "What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled, trying to pull back. For all he was physically stronger than her, he couldn't. She kept a tight grip, fighting his resistance.  
"There are no tricks, no rouses! For Dumbledore's sake, Charlie, when will you _ever_ understand that I would never hurt you?" She stared at his eyes as he tried to extract himself from her, but he couldn't tear himself from the intensity of her gaze anyway. A part of him didn't want to. Wanted to see it through. "Why now? I want to be on the right side. I worked in Mysteries, _yes_. A spy, _yes_. And what I tell you now...It's the truth. You cannot pass it on. You are my secondary."  
Nova paused, doing her best to keep in sobs. She left something unsaid that he knew anyway, deep down. _My secondary. _His Dad's imagined voice chastised the other, more fearful voice inside him. Charlie felt as though he was being pulled apart while slowly being wound in somewhere else. With every word spoken it seemed her burden became a little lighter, and his heavier, but it was the kind of burden he was happy to take from her. Like hurting yourself trying to help a dragon, you couldn't give without taking a little back.  
Nova continued in a low whisper. "The ministry used me to extract information. Sometimes wizards and witches were kept for days in those rooms until they brought me in. Sometimes it was easy. Sometimes there was..._resistance_. I know I had a choice, but I didn't, not really. If I didn't deliver, they said they'd obliviate my parents. So...I had to _push, _when I was ordered to, find ways into memories, ways that weren't always…" Nova looked away now, shame clouding her features. "..._Right._ I had my fair share of witches and wizards sent to Mungo's. Paranoia, derangement...I visited. Polyjuice. The sight of my face usually sent them into a fit."  
Nova gripped his arm tighter, angry, shameful tears escaping from her eyes. "I never wanted to do that stuff. _Never._ I'd moved out of my parents place, near Diagon Alley anyway, but I was still so scared they'd be hurt. The Ministry talks about acceptance and inclusion, but they'd still use muggles as a weapon in their persuasion...I haven't seen them in three years. And now, with Death Eaters in the department-"  
"_What?" _Charlie couldn't help the word come out. Her words rocked him, but he found himself grasping her arm voluntarily now. He could understand job pressure.  
This was something else, though.  
"Death Eaters. In the department of Mysteries. Scrimgeour is too busy looking the other way to notice men like Lucius creeping about. It won't be long. I can feel it, Charlie. It will all fall, and they will start persecuting half bloods and muggle borns like me, regardless of what House I was in."  
Charlie swallowed. "Dumbledore needs to know."  
Nova just shook her head, her eyes still full of fire.  
"_He already does."_

Charlie's face resembled the look of a wizard who'd just been given a riddle by a Sphinx. Confused. Scared.  
"He already knows?" he spoke quietly, still catching up with his emotions.  
"He knows which way this is going, about the Ministry. I've been sending _him_ information. I think it's what Snape meant for me. I wasn't meant to be in the Order- _yes, I know about it_\- but I was scared. I don't know what You-Know-Who has planned, but...we should be prepared. This thing, I can do...It's not just legilimens, you know that. I can feel it. Bad things are about to happen," she finished, the fear crawling through her limbs like venom, clenching and unclenching his arm. She felt the smooth scars on his forearm, places where the hair had stopped growing, but it did nothing to steady her breathing, to halt the rudderlessness she was beginning to feel. The world was about to change, more pain, more scars, more places where life will no longer grow.  
They stared at each other for a little while, back and forth, for moments that stretched like minutes.  
_Merlin_. Charlie's thoughts raced, faster than they ever did. He cleared his throat. "You said you visited them. The people you interrogated. In Mungos. Rothstone."  
She looked down, doing nothing but nod.  
"He said his Dad was heavily involved at the Ministry, at Mungos. So he worked there too."  
Nova nodded again, evidently seeing his train of thought. "Rothstone was one of the doctors who'd come to collect people that had to be sent there. Sometimes Fidelius works both ways. It's why nobody knows who works there, and why nobody who works there knows anyone else, unless from before. So it took me a while, but I realised that's where I'd seen him. He all but told me, earlier, in the pub."  
"Okay," Charlie started. The skin on the inside of her arm was soft against the hard callouses on his fingers. He shook his head. "But you said there was something off about him."  
Nova's eyes were wide, moon shaped pools, reflecting her fear. "I don't think he's on our side. Not in the least."  
Charlie nodded. The air seemed stretched too thin, the heat of the moment passing, as the fire itself yearned for another log or two. Their hands were still joined, her face still pained, still hurt.  
"What I said. About you manipulating me. About-" Charlie sighed, hesitated. Moving slowly, he clasped her arm with his free hand. "I accused you of not being on our- _my_\- side, and _not for the first time._ It was stupid. I can be so stubborn. I was just scared. Afraid."  
Her voice came out as a raw whisper, she was breathing shallowly, unevenly. "You thought, after everything, that I would use Legilimens on you."  
It wasn't even a question. It was a fact. Her eyes were full of sorrow. He had no reason. He had only words.  
"I'm so sorry."

She looked away, her features shattered, as if those two words had opened a valve, allowing what had been hidden in the dark to come crashing to the light. Her breath rose and fell quickly. Before he could make sense of it, she'd pulled her hand back to herself, her wand clattering to the dim floor, leaving a cold empty void in his hands. She curled away from him like a wounded beast, her breath not so much falling in and out as being forced, too quickly. Like she was suffocating.  
Charlie reached out, hesitated, unsure of where to put himself, pulled back. She was struggling to breathe, crying, and he just sat there, doing nothing, immobilised by inexperience. What kind of a person was he? To not know how to comfort someone like this?  
Then he remembered one of the baby fireballs a few years back, panicking from being separated from its Mother, shooting weak but fiery sparks and smoke from its mouth, running around the enclosure and endangering the other babies. Charlie remembered he had to throw a weighted, sopping wet blanket on top of it and hold it down, making soothing noises until it calmed. He never told Bill that the large scar decorating his arm was from a baby fireball, but he had been most proud of that moment above all. The common misconceptions that dragons were cruel and dangerous were founded by wizards not understanding the simple fact that creatures weren't all that different from humans.  
The memory came to him, the image in his head of his Dad pointing to it as if to say, _look, son, easy.  
_He lowered himself to the ground, slowly. He didn't think a wet blanket would work, but he had his arms, which he slowly passed around her rocking body. All doubt had left him. The memory of her freezing body next to his in the lake all those years ago, the feeling of being freed from his thoughts, of just surviving, of just getting through it. It made sense in a way that hadn't for a long time. She jerked and yelped a little in fright, struggling against him, but he held fast. He breathed deeply, telling himself she was just a baby dragon who needed calming, but knowing he didn't have to. For once, he wasn't scared, because it was so alarmingly simple he felt like bashing his head against the mantle. He was looking at the result of fear in a way he'd never seen in another person, it made his own worries pale in comparison, and above everything, he felt so bloody selfish.  
She just needed to survive. They just needed to get through it. He set the pace. He put his face in her neck, his arms around her body, her arms, her knees. He held fast. '_I'm so sorry,"_ he whispered. He rocked. Thought of nothing but her breathing, willing it to slow, to find a place in him to rest. Rocked her until her heart slowed, until her body eased into his. He held fast.

On the dusty wooden floor of her cabin, for what felt like hours, Charlie clutched her as if he was protecting her from a hex. Eventually, as the minutes passed, Nova's breathing stabilised, her crying reduced to gentle sniffs. He rested his back against the armchair he'd made, still holding her curled up limbs in his arms. He felt her breath deepen, her muscles release, gradually, and the simple act of falling asleep occurred with her head resting on his chest.

He thought of the hospital wing, the fire crackling down to brittle embers. He gazed at the flume in front of him until the light dimmed so low they became shadows huddled and flickering on the floor.

He listened to her breath, felt the warm weight of her on his chest, his shirt slightly damp, and wondered about all the time he had missed, being too scared to try.


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors note: A wee short chapter for you, 'cos the next one is a biggy...**

* * *

The wood popped and bristled as Arthur Weasley pushed his face through the flames, the room of Charlie's cabin becoming a strange composition in molten embers and black charcoal.  
"You look tired," Charlie said softly, sitting tiredly in front of his own fire. "Is everything ok?"  
Arthur chuckled kindly at his second born son, the one others took for distracted and absent, but he knew was really just painfully sensitive and caring. "Hello to you too."  
Charlie laughed, if a little grimly. "Sorry, Dad."  
"Everything's fine, son. Things are difficult, but nothing me and your dear Mum can't manage together."  
"How's Grimmauld place?"  
"Oh, you know, horrendously loud one minute and deathly silent the next. But we're safe," Arthur paused suggestively, and Charlie took the hint. He'd have to be careful what he shared over this network, but for now, they were safe. "To what do I owe the pleasure, son?"  
Charlie looked at his hands.

The ones that had just carried Nova to bed, the finger tips that stroked a strand of hair out of her face.

"Or is it, to whom?" Arthur asked gently, not wanting to scare away his son, who was most like a frightened creature when it came to his feelings. Prone to bolting.  
"Nova Unthank."  
Arthur couldn't stop his eyebrows raising as charred pieces of coal, popping as though they were alight. "I haven't heard you speak her name since you were at school. Not bad news, I hope?"  
Charlie shook his head. "No, Dad. She's here, at the Sanctuary. Came a couple of months ago. Doing really well, actually."  
Arthur made a thoughtful noise. "Doesn't she work at the Ministry?"  
Charlie shuffled uncomfortably, switching his feet around. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Or, she did. In _Mysteries_, Dad."  
Arthurs eyebrows popped and crackled again, the memory of his attack blooming like a deathly flower in his chest. "I'm assuming she's told you something that you can't tell me?"  
Charlie smirked.

His Dad could be so quietly astute about everything. He hated how everyone underestimated him.  
"Yes. But let's just say that everything she knows, you already do. Maybe even because of her."  
"Ah," Arthur looked pensive. "One of the _secret sources_."  
Charlie nodded, sighed.  
"What's bothering you? Don't you trust her?" Arthur asked, gently.  
Charlie scratched the wooden floor boards, the silence of midnight in the woods echoing his father's words.  
"That's the problem. I do. It would be easier if I didn't."  
"What would be easier?" A long pause. The far off screech of an owl, the dim crackle of a small fire.  
"How I _feel."  
_He expected thoughtful silence from his old man, and he received it. Arthur knew the importance of Charlie's privacy, never had conversations when his Mum was around.  
"Ah. You work with _dragons_, son. What can you be so scared of?"  
Charlie pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nova is- she's, _well,_ we've always...I never wanted to fall out. But," Charlie gestured around him maddeningly, to the dragons, the sanctuary, "It's not the right _time_...I can't just-"  
He groaned and put his hand in his head. He could still smell the lavender on his wrist.

Arthur smiled knowingly, his smile appearing like lava. On the other side, in Grimmauld Place, his hands lay clasped gently in his lap, glad to be talking of something other than strategies and contingencies.  
"Charlie, my boy, you'll forgive me for saying this, but you've been saying those words since you were sixteen."  
"And? I'm busy! There's a war going on! I have dragons to care for, people to manage, and anyway, I'm not even sure if it's...you know...that I can trust myself not to hurt-_urgh_!" Charlie groaned into his hands.  
Arthur grimaced a little at Charlie's fettle from his position on the dank old floor of the Blacks' kitchen.  
Charlie had only ever had one fascination in life, and that was dragons. Dragons, albeit dangerous, gave Charlie a rush of adrenalin that was safe, expected, even something he could control. Love, on the other hand, was something that was either lauded on him in droves by his mother, or something so profound and out of his reach, that the idea of not knowing how to control it deprived him of its experience. Love could not be dampened with charms or wet blankets, or stunned into submission. Love couldn't be flown away from on a broom, it couldn't be caught like a Snitch and placed in a box the next time you had use of it. It was pervasive, impatient, unruly. Oh, Arthur had experienced the whole infuriating lot.  
But he had, unlike Molly, long accepted that his second son was quite happy being alone, while not exactly being lonely, and that if he were to meet anyone, it would be on his own damned time. He was happy, truly. He could ask for nothing more for the sweet, excited little boy he raised. But Arthur also knew that the fear Charlie harboured about anything too personal, too real, was indeed so profound that he could just as well talk himself out of a good spark before it had time to really burn. He knew that Charlie was more afraid of hurting someone else than he was of hurting himself; it went some way to explain why he cared for dragons and creatures so much.  
That was why he smiled. It encouraged him to think that Charlie would contact his Dad at midnight on a Tuesday evening, not necessarily to find ways out of it, but to find a way in. His son knew his own mind, he sometimes just needed someone to explain it to him.  
"Dad, why are you grinning? We _are _at war!" Charlie proclaimed tiredly.  
"Because I raised a good man," Arthur began, his voice breaking through in gentle, burnt crunches and small explosions of ash in the fireplace. Charlie looked up curiously, breathing through his discomfort. "_Too good_, in fact. Personally, I think there's no finer time to go for it."  
"How can I even justify being that selfish when people are dying, Dad? Don't get me wrong, I'm happy doing what I can from here. But if this is _all_ I can do, I can't exactly risk...You know, the distraction."  
Arthur stopped himself from sighing. "If you can't be selfish now, when can you be? Charlie you've spent your entire life looking after others, putting every man, creature and bloody _tree_ before yourself." A weighted pause passed between them. "I understand, I'm proud of you no matter what. But someone has come, or returned, should I say, into your life, and perhaps she shouldn't have had the opportunity to leave in the first place. _However_, I don't want to see you cut off parts of your emotions for the sake of guilt. Listen, son-"  
Charlie was quiet as his fathers face became serious, sighing through the woodsmoke. "-we don't know if we'll win this or not, or where we'll be in a years time. We don't know how long...how long we have each other for. I watched many of my friends die in the first great war, Charlie. But I also married your Mum and started a family, because our lives _must_ go on, in _spite_ of everything. I watched James and Lily choose _light,_ each _other_, against all odds. What if they had given into fear? Into regret and trying to predict the bloody future? Merlins _knees_, Charlie, Harry would never have been born."  
Charlie gazed off into the middle distance.

His father was right, but it only made the stone in the pit of his stomach grow heavier. If he'd been his elder brother, he would have made a joke about having kids. But he wasn't his brother. He didn't have his faith.  
"How am I supposed to manage everything, and..._this?" _he asked Arthur quietly.  
Arthur wished above everything, with his bottom scraping the stone floor and Kreacher's complaining leaching through the walls of the house, that he could be there with his son, if only to put his hand on his shoulder. "Charlie, you've been managing an entire reservation full of dragons. If you can't manage love, I'm afraid you really are a lost cause."  
Charlie laughed, despite himself. "I don't know about _love_."  
"I'm married to your Mother. I don't know either," Arthur muttered. He watched as Charlie's face relaxed a little, smiling despite himself. "Look, just because there's a war going on, doesn't mean you have to forego _happiness_. But you don't have to rush, head on, either. Live your life as you usually would. Take your time...We have to believe that we have all the time in the world."  
Charlie sighed resignedly. "Thanks Dad."  
"But don't take that long, your Mother would never forgive me if she croaked before seeing you happy."  
"MERLINS BALLS, Dad!" Charlie exclaimed, knowing he shouldn't laugh, but the tense energy exploded from him anyway. Arthur chuckled to himself.  
"Follow your instincts. Forget about your mum and me, we both know you already have everything you want. We're already so proud. And you're helping beyond measure, truly. Know that.  
But ask yourself, do you have everything you _need_?"

Arthur bid goodbye to his son, pulling his face from the coals, the picture of Charlie smiling in his cabin dissolving. A great well of emotion, of dread and joy and pride and fear and sorrow threatened to overspill, tears budding in his eyes. He believed his words, he did. He was, at the very least, grateful; at least one of his brood had bigger things to worry about than the war. As it stood, Charlie had the best bet of survival of all of them, he was furthest away. Arthur was pragmatic, never in front of Molly of course, but the weight of his grief was heavy. His family, his unit, each and every one of them in danger, facing it with bravery and courage.  
The war was imminent. It was only a matter of time before life as they all knew it changed, inexorably.

He did so wish the boy would hurry up and enjoy it.

* * *

When Nova woke in the morning, the edges of night were tinged with light, the stars still visible through the glass panes that enclosed her bed, the singing of the dragons welcoming the oncoming morning. Her heart felt heavy. She rubbed her fingers in her eyes and sighed heavily, propped herself up. She was still wearing last night's clothes, but her shoes had been removed and placed at the foot of the bed. Her fingers traced her cheeks, her chest, where she'd been held. Her head rested against her shoulder, as if a small creature was nuzzling there. She listened to the dragons yawns, heard the odd door opening and shutting, someone on the early shift.  
She couldn't sleep even if she wanted to. She scooted down to the end of her bed, her feet landing on the cold wood, stayed there a while, wiggling her toes in the thick wool socks. Sighed again.  
On a battered old comfortable looking armchair was a torn piece of parchment. She lit a fire, picking it up and turning it over, scoffing at the scribbly writing, parts crossed out.

_Would have stayed but-  
__Anyway. I'm with you now. All the time in the world.  
__C_

She held the parchment tenderly against her chest as she curled up in the floral chair, the forest around her cabin lightening with a warmth of the rising sun.


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors note: Ok, the moment you're waiting for. It's raining outside, the leaves are falling, which tends to mean I start feeling witchy around about now. More chapters coming.  
So what happened that night? I loved writing this. Suddenly I was seventeen again and feeling it all.  
It's a long one, so get yourself a cuppa and settle in. Let me know what you think, and leave a review if you're feeling generous :)**

* * *

****A long, thin sliver of pure icy light came flowing from the end of Nova's wand, tailing off and effervescing formlessly. A hand, clenching and unclenching, teeth gritted. A gentleman with wispy hair that rounded above his scalp like a rainbow and thin spectacles balanced on the end of a thin nose peered at her, as a quill hovering expectantly over a floating parchment waited patiently.  
"Relax Miss Unthank, you have two more tries."  
The examiner smiled but squinted, quite clearly looking forward to the last day of practical examinations being over. Nova nodded with a grimace, breathing deeply, looking at her wand, silently blaming it. Why couldn't she think of a happy memory?  
She heard an exclamation from across the Great Hall. It was Charlie, whose welsh dragon was currently prowling the floor and blowing blue flame into the great fireplace. He punched the air in a small gesture to himself as the examiner commended him. The dragon diminished but his grin did not as he glanced around the hall to see how everyone else was getting on. _Don't look at me, don't look at me, you insufferable bastard, don't look at me-  
_"Miss Unthank?"  
She tried to relax, felt the weight of her wand in her hand, counted breaths in, out. If only she could make the examiner just give her the bloody mark with legilimens; she knew she could do it, not that she ever _would, of course, _but imagine a world where that would be okay...She raised her eyebrows in disbelief at herself, her desperation. Searched her memories. There was that one moment last week when it started to take form, but she'd been distracted by Nigella gawping over the dress her Mum had sent her...Still, she almost had it. Told herself she had it.  
She refused to look at Charlie, knowing he'd be trying to cheer her on in some way. She focused her mind; her first day at Hogwarts, meeting Charlie, seeing the castle for the first time, let it fill her up, Polar circling around her neck in nervous anticipation, being sorted, feeling proud. Then the thought of her loneliness and sadness in her first year would come worming in, and she felt the happiness dissipate from her. "_Arrrggh!"  
_"Miss Unthank, it's quite rare for a student your age to achieve a corporeal patronus, you really oughtn't get so-"  
"I can do it! Please, just give me a second."  
The examiner sighed audibly, pushing his glasses further up his nose but still somehow looking down at her. All she had to do was cast a patronus. All she had to do was think of something that made her happy, and then she was free; she could get ready for the ball, she could meet Charlie, smuggle in the bottle of firewhisky the twins had _procured _from Hogsmead. If it was all rubbish, they could just go down to the lake and spend some real time together. The thought of him in dress-robes, the thought of him seeing her in the dress Nigella couldn't stop stroking in admiration, of them just being together like they used to be, filled her with excitement, like electricity.  
She sighed in resentment. She'd been doing her best to refuse to admit it was his being in her life that made her happiest, even down to sitting with their feet dangling off the boathouse decking, watching the sun go down as they practised charms. And then she thought of the night in the hospital wing. They'd never talked about it, but she'd felt the weight of his head on hers, had never felt so relaxed, like she belonged.  
She closed her eyes and stilled her breathing, silently angry that it was this memory that was going to do it. "_Expecto patronum!"_  
The light spilled from the end of her wand in powerful ribbons, expanding and taking the form of- _of course_, she thought. The white ferret that formed her patronus pranced forth and danced around the examiners heads, jumping, flipping. The sight of it filled her with joy as she directed it around the Great Hall, high into the air, a tail of light glittering away like a jet stream until it made its way back around her shoulders and faded.  
There was a pause, a hiatus where the air itself held its breath, and she heard Charlie shout from across the hall, 'WOO! GO NO!"  
She grinned as the examiner nodded in belligerent admiration, congratulating her as he walked away.  
She puffed out her cheeks and landed on her haunches, relieved, exalted, finally allowing herself to look over towards Charlie, who jogged over grinning and pulled her up onto her feet.  
"I told you you'd do it! What did you think about?"  
His face was so happy, his smile so broad, he pulled her close with his signature arm as they walked out of the hall.  
"I...uh, you know, first day of Hogwarts," she replied, her head ducking down.  
"Really? Well, it worked! It looked just like Polar," he squeezed again and let go as they came to the stairs.  
"I know it's silly, but I really can't wait to see his face when I show him," she laughed.  
"Not at all. He'll probably fight him." Charlie shoved his hands at his pockets, a smile still on his face as he hovered on the first step. Nova scuffed her shoe on the stone. "So…"  
"I think I'm going to go have a well deserved bath in the prefects bathroom, those exams...Glad they're done."  
"Oh sure, rub in your privileges again!" Nova teased gently.  
"What are Slytherin bathrooms even like? Don't you just wash in the water running down the stones?"  
"Ha-ha, very good. You enjoy your bath Charlie, Merlin knows it'd be the first time you've used it this year!" Charlie laughed loudly, clutching his heart to a quick '_shh'_ from the examiners at the door of the Great Hall. "_Argh_, it hurts-"  
He ascended the steps, Nova chuckling as she turned towards the stairs down to the dungeons, calling out behind her. "Don't forget to wash your hair, you bundimun!"  
"-_Sssssh!-"  
_"You're so nasty! I'm cancelling!" he shouted as she made her way down the steps to her common room.  
"Not if you know what's bloody good for you Charlie Weasley!" she yelled.  
"-Would you two be _quiet?!-"  
_Nova was too busy laughing to notice the footsteps across the entrance hall before Charlie's shadow blocked out the light from behind her.  
"Seriously though, what time-?"  
"Eight! Entrance hall!"

Nova didn't turn around, afraid to reveal the grin on her face, letting the cool darkness cover her as she skipped down the steps.

Charlie fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeve, trying to give himself space to breath in the dress robes Bill had sent him from the Burrow; his Mother had not surprised him in knowing his exact measurements, so at least they hadn't looked too _second hand_ when he put them on. His shoes were tight and cleaner than any pair he'd owned, the dark red robe longer than he was used to, the silver brocade around the lapels fancier than he liked, but all in all, when he looked in the mirror, he'd actually been quite impressed with himself. The robes were subtle, not too old fashioned. Bill had worn them after all.  
He swallowed, feeling the collar rub up uncomfortably against his throat. People were flooding into the entrance hall, guys laughing awkwardly and girls squealing and complimenting each other. He stood deliberately half hidden beside one of the armoured statues by the main doors, avoiding eye contact with anyone in particular but glancing every now and again to the stairway down to the dungeons. It wasn't just tonight; Gryffindor had lost the Quidditch final by one point, and it still rankled him. He didn't feel too much like a failure, but he could have done without any attention for it.  
He hadn't been waiting long, but it was longer than he'd like. He thought briefly of visiting Kettleburn quickly, considered going to see if Hagrid needed any help, fantasised flying freely over the stands on his broom. Anything but standing here, his housemates calling out and inviting him inside, giving him the eyebrows when he said he was waiting for someone, immediately feeling sick with the attention. Catching snitches and celebrating Quidditch wins, he could handle. Waiting in dress robes, knowing full well that walking a _girl_ into a ball...he cringed inwardly.  
Being friends with Nova was already contentious for a lot of his peers in Gryffindor, but he'd always ignored it. They were good friends, and like it or not that wasn't going to change. Turning up to a ball with her though...People were bound to ask, to make a thing of it. His skin felt hot.  
He glanced at the stairway again. Undid the top button of his collar and the cuffs of his shirt, pulling up the sleeves. Breathed out heavily. That felt better. More like himself.  
He wondered briefly what she'd be wearing...Looked away from the stairwell.  
She always just wore jumpers, shirts, jeans. She wasn't girly like Chelsea, or any of the other Gryffindor girls who'd put themselves out in the last year for his affections. He couldn't even picture her in a dress. Or he could, but it looked sort of, warbled, and not really like her.  
He glanced back at the stairwell.  
A group of girls were coming up from the dungeons, dressed in black, muted greys and silver, their faces containing their glee in the way that only Slytherin girls could do. He had to admit out of all the houses, they were the coolest. And by cool, he meant frostiest, but he preferred that to the outward confidence of most of the Gryffindors. Maybe that's why he liked Nova so much. She was more inclined to shrug than giggle but when she laughed she roared.  
He noticed a girl at the back of the group, wearing a long sleeved green dress the colour of the forbidden forest, with a high silver laced neck that made a kind of collar around her shoulders. Charlie was so busy looking at the dress and the body in it that he didn't realise she'd left the group and was walking straight towards him. A beautiful girl was clenching and unclenching her fists, the material around her hips swishing and hugging a figure he had done his best over the last few years to ignore.  
"So..._hi_," Nova spoke, flaring her nostrils and biting her bottom lip, making him laugh. Charlie gazed at her. Her hair was trussed up, sort of, twisted around the front, little tendrils framing her face like smoke. Her lips were a darker pink than usual, and he noticed the way her top lip curved inwards in the middle, her face still pale and a little flushed, a freckle he hadn't noticed before. He felt as if he was really seeing her for the first time.  
There was a long pause, his words were bouncing around his head like bloody snitches and he couldn't bloody catch them.  
"Yeah," he said, stupidly. He could have slapped his forehead. Sure that if his Mother had been here, she would have done it for him. Why was he thinking about his Mum?  
"You look really nice."  
Nova blushed and made a strange noise, swinging her arms and fingering the silver lace leaves and flowers that decorated her collarbone. "Mum must have been to Diagon Alley, it's a bit much, but-"  
"No, no it's not, really," Charlie smiled. He meant it. He also thought he might be sick.  
"Last chance to escape," Nova gestured to the Great Hall.  
He shook his head and nodded to her. "After all the effort I've made?"  
She smiled brightly and turned away. He noticed a few other students quickly glance elsewhere, making surprised faces at each other. It was only when he looked back and followed her in he saw why. It was impossible not to; The back of her dress gathered around her neck but opened up into a deep cut to just above her lower back. Her skin was like an occamy egg, he had to stop his gaze going any lower. He gulped, considered undoing another button. It helped to think about snitches, the way they flitted through the air, the golden circle he'd spent his school years trying to catch, the curve of her waist and the way the fabric gathered...He loosened his collar by another button, grateful for the spectacle of the Great Hall to distract him.

Huge wildflower centrepieces, stuffed with mainly wild campion and wood sage for Slytherin colours in honour of the Quidditch win, and accented with poppies, cornflowers and buttercups to represent the other houses. Great swathes of foxgloves and sweet vernal grass separated the circular tables that had replaced the four long ones, so that the whole of the Great Hall looked like a harvest festival; huge sunflowers and melons, gigantic bowls of strawberries and raspberries on the tables, great tall jugs of sparkling, fizzy light, plates of honeycomb and sweet pastries, great dishes of salads and edible flowers. There were more candles he'd ever seen suspended in the air, everything surrounding an open floor that had been charmed to look like deep starlight. He saw Flitwick looking quite proud of himself, and Dumbledore hovering suspiciously by the large punchbowl that seemed to fizz and spark on the teachers table. The setting sun outside was casting shafts of subdued light through the windows, the sky a dark wash of pinks and purples, so the Great Hall felt warm and twilit.  
"I've never seen the Hall like this," he said, the swell of voices and music rising as more people joined the crowds. The feeling in the room was infectious. He soon felt more relaxed that nobody was staring at him because they were so busy staring at each other. They found a table towards the wall, away from the gaze of the teachers, both subconsciously choosing a sensible distance from the dance floor.  
Nova sat down with a small _harrumph_, smiling shyly at him. She obviously felt just as weird as he did.  
"I'll go get something to...Did Fred give you-?"  
Nova turned mysterious, gave him an exaggerated wink and pointed at a small bag she carried. Her face changed quickly to a frown.  
"Seriously though, you should be worried about those twins."

When Charlie got back with the drinks, they made a concerted effort to down the punch and pour the tentative measures of Firewhisky into their empty goblets without being seen, and a doubly concerted effort to not choke on the potency of it. The tension loosened like a taut rope between them as they laughed and Nova coughed, small sparks emitting from her mouth.  
"Merlins hole!" she gasped, wiping her chin, swilling her glass thoughtfully for a moment. "I like it!"  
Charlie looked around carefully but they were suitably covered by the moving bodies of the other students, who were already pulling each other awkwardly on the dance floor. He topped them up and nodded towards Dumbledore, who was shimmying slightly to the music playing across the hall. "I think he's already tiddled,"  
Nova giggled. "I think you're right."  
They sat sipping carefully until the burn in his throat lessened and his body felt a bit lighter.  
"I'm warning you now, I'm not dancing," Charlie nodded over at the crowd. Nova leaned her chin on her hand and faced him, smirking. Her face really was nice, like the moon.  
"Absolutely not. Nothing would make me cringe more than dancing with you."  
About an hour later (Charlie had stopped noticing the movement of time and more the way Nova's body tensed and curled when she laughed so raucously, so it had been a surprise to him to find night had fallen outside), Tonks had joined them at their table, caught up with some firewhisky, and all three of them were howling like werewolves at some of the dance moves of their peers. Tonks was dragging Nova, who dug her heels in, to the floor, while Charlie looked on helplessly.  
"No, absolutely not, do not, _no_, Tonks-" Nova resisted, and reached out her hand to Charlie to assist in the abduction towards the dance floor, her face desperate, her eyes pleading for his assistance all the while grinning. Maybe it was the firewhisky, but he had the sudden realisation that there wasn't much he wouldn't do for her. He took her hand and did a terrible job of resisting until all three were dragged mercilessly to the dance floor by a girl whose hair changed colours along with the trouser-suit she had enchanted. Before he knew it, Charlie was standing in the thickest part of the crowd, elbows thrusting and hips turning, Tonks waving her hands in the air and beckoning them to do the same. Charlie only realised he was still holding Nova's hand when she put her face in her other, not letting go. Charlie looked about self consciously, the room swirling a little, having to squint his eyes. He looked down at his hand in hers, fingers intertwined, watched them disconnect abruptly as Tonks pulled Nova towards her in a hug and moved her limbs for her. Nova bellowed a laugh that seemed to belie her self-consciousness. Nova uncoiled like a snake that was previously ready to attack, and he watched nervously, laughing at them both who now pretended they were puppets.  
Charlie started to wonder if he'd had too much Firewhisky. The floor felt like it was warping, his head hot, everything blurring like a charms lesson. He glanced back at the table, worried they'd left the Firewhisky sitting there, but on second look Nova's bag was swinging around her body as Tonks pulled her further into the crowd. Nova glanced behind her, trying to grab him, but he was accosted by some guys from Hufflepuff who shouted about the quidditch final over the music, only to extricate himself into a crowd of Slytherins who made a series of hidden compliments about his flying in the manner of insults. He shook them off, dipping and twisting through the bodies to find his friends again, and finding himself face to face with Nigella, who was dancing with a girl he struggled to remember the name of.  
"Oh, hi, have you seen-"  
Nigella smirked, but there was a lightness in her eyes she didn't usually reserve for him. It eased his nerves only a little. She nodded behind her, deeper into the throng. "Tonks pulled her that way."  
He craned his neck, but couldn't see Tonks' head. He looked back at Nigella, closing one eye in an attempt to focus better.  
"Thanks. You...having a good time?"  
Nigella laughed and yelled over the music into his ear. "Yeah! How about you? Nova looks amazing, doesn't she? She was really nervous you know, thought you'd never go with her!"  
Charlie had rubbed at a burning earlobe. "What do you mean?"  
"Come on, Charlie! Don't be stupid! The only people who don't think you guys are good together are you and Nova!" Nigella yelled again, raising her eyebrows. She shook her head, laughing and resumed dancing closely with the girl he remembered was called Poppy. The music had become impossibly loud, and he was at the centre of it, and everyone was watching him, and everyone knew. He blew out a long breath, feeling his stomach rise like a wave. Nigella turned around after Poppy pointed back at Charlie.  
"Relax, it's not a big deal! Have another shot of firewhisky, and go do what you should have done two years ago!" Nigella pushed him away, not unkindly, and he half smiled, turning around to see Tonks now dancing behind Nova and pushing her hips in the alternate direction to her own. Nova was grinning, her smile reaching her eyes in that rare way again. The world moved around him, someone pushed into him, he was pulled another way, but his eyes never left her. The wave inside his stomach felt as though it might break, his smile slowly disappeared as his mouth turned impossibly dry; it was like the shadow between everyone's bodies thickened. He wanted to move closer, he wanted to, her smile was so wide, but he was rooted to the spot. She was having such a good time. What was he going to do? Stand uselessly? Dancing wasn't his thing...was it? The thought of taking her hand again made his clammy, the thought of anything more, in this massive crowd, thrilled him, made his throat close tight, and he was suddenly, just so …

He turned around, ducked through the crowds, and walked out through the wide open doors of the Great Hall and out into the night with his head down, taking down great lungfuls of warm summer air.

Nova's eyes were closed, she was laughing and dancing, she spun around, her hands high in the air. She'd never felt like this, in her whole life. For once, she wasn't thinking about anyone else in the room. She'd aced her exams, she felt beautiful, Charlie had, against all odds, accompanied her. He had looked so handsome; everyone else tidy and buttoned up and Charlie, with his sleeves pushed up and his hair tousled, and the look in his eyes when he saw her-

_Where _was _Charlie?_ She opened her eyes and glanced around. Tonks had danced herself into a different circle and couldn't hear Nova when she called out to her. The faces around her blurred a little, she thought she saw Flitwick crowd surfing out of the corner of her eye. Squinting, she searched for a flash of red hair in the low light, her smile fading. She edged through the crowds, a little breathless, her guard down, everyone's guard down, and suddenly feeling the edges of everyone's emotions and thoughts barrage her out of nowhere as she struggled past. She got to the edge of the throng, relieved for only a moment to find their table empty save for goblets littering the shimmering tabletops. The music was being drowned out to the sound of thoughts and squeals and flashes of images, she had to sit down. She decided to wait and see if Charlie would find her, grabbing a spare glass of water someone had left. He'd probably gone to the bathroom. She wiped her mouth, steadying her breath, the pressure of other people's delight ebbing slightly as she did so.  
It was another ten minutes before the exhilaration had started to wear off, and Charlie still hadn't come back. She watched everyone as they laughed and danced, and cried and kissed and hugged, alone at the table. Tonks was lost in the crowd. That was the only problem with Tonks; she was impossible to pin down. It wasn't that she didn't care, she just joyfully followed her instincts, and it often left people behind in her wake.  
Twenty minutes had gone by when Nova's hands started clenching, a horrible feeling of unwanted emotions building in her chest. She thought of finding Nigella, but she was too busy having a good time with Poppy, and she didn't want to be the awkward third wheel. Nigella deserved to have a nice time. She sighed to herself. The whole deal of coming here with Charlie was they wouldn't have to suffer it alone.  
Then she thought, if she were Charlie, where would she be?

Nova stomped down the steps from the courtyard before she really thought about what she'd do when she found him. Soft green orbs that fluttered like fireflies highlighted the path down towards the lake. She pulled her dress up, not wanting to rip it after her parents spent so much money on it; she really had felt so beautiful when she'd looked at herself in the mirror. Nigella had twisted her hair up around her face, raised her eyebrow in that way she did; '_Charlie literally won't have a clue what to do with himself.' _ That was probably true. He'd ran from the Great Hall after all, or so she believed.  
Her heart raced as she passed students kissing, another student crying, another group passing around a bottle that sounded like Gigglewine, their chuckles rising into the air and mingling with the sounds from the castle. She tried to steady her breathing, that he had just abandoned her, sitting alone like a sad case...She huffed down to the grass and pulled her shoes off, feeling the dew of dusk under her feet, and made her way down to the pier. There he was, sitting at the end, or at least, the silhouette outlined by the bright, full, summer moon looked a lot like him. Sitting there like he'd done nothing wrong. He was floating lots of small objects across the lake in strange patterns. It was only as she got closer that she recognised the vague shape of a dragon in the moonlit air. All the fire went out of her. She opened her mouth, closed it, sighing, padded towards the end of the pier, the slats of wood smooth under her feet. He either didn't hear her, or was avoiding looking up at her. The small objects he was floating were cornflakes.  
"I was looking for you," she said abruptly, still holding her dress up above her ankles.  
"Sorry...It all just got a bit-"  
"-So you just left me?"  
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to...You looked like you were having fun, I didn't want to spoil it," his speech was a little slurred as he started on another stream of cornflakes.  
"Charlie, after all this time, how do you not know I'd rather be here doing this, than in a room full of people that don't know me?"  
Nova sat down with a huge sigh, oddly enough not regretting being so open, bunching the dress around her knees and checking the decking wasn't damp. She let her feet float close to the water, feeling the breeze wisp around her ankles from across the loch. Charlie watched her dolefully, taking her shoes and placed them behind him. He passed her a handful of cornflakes and gazed back across the still surface of the lake.  
"I think that's why I bailed," he said quietly.

Nova's heart lurched, her brain turned soft like a cloud. Her words came out before she thought about the consequences of them. "You've been bailing on me for a while."  
Charlie looked at her, his exhalations heavier than usual, as if catching his breath was more of an effort than usual. "What are you talking about?"  
Nova pulled her wand awkwardly from her bag, her other hand still holding the stupid cornflakes, and started floating them across the lake in a weak effort to tempt Beastie from the depths. "I'm not having a go, Charlie, but be honest, you've done a really good job of avoiding me recently."  
"Wait-wait," Charlie shook his head. "How was this turned from...I've had fun, honestly, I know I'm not...I haven't been...But can we not-"  
"Ok, ok. I just…" Nova felt her breath stir in her chest, feeling an odd combination of numbness and heat. "I really hate not seeing you. I don't get it, sometimes it's all good, but recently...it's like you can't even look me in the eye...like you'd rather be anywhere but...I just feel better when you're around. Maybe that's the selfish snake in me."  
A silence that rivalled that of the loch stretched between them for moment after moment, the meaning of the words undoing themselves and reconfiguring again in the confusing mass that was Charlie's brain.  
The cornflakes fell on the surface of the lake as Nova let her wand fall to her lap and sighed, the sensation of tears burning the back of her throat. Or was it the firewhisky?

"_No_, I really, please...I like...that's not it...I'm just..._confused_," Charlie mumbled, turning his wand over in his hand. The words felt like jam in his mouth but it felt good to say them out loud.  
Out of nowhere though, Nova started laughing, a bright chuckle that escaped her, turning into a bit of a bellow so that Charlie was taken by surprise. She buried her face in her hands. When she looked up at his bewildered face, tears were in her eyes.  
Okay, they were both drunk then. He laughed nervously.  
"What?!'  
"You think you're the only one? _Merlin's tits_, Charlie, I've been-" Nova snorted, had begun hiccuping, "-going _crazy_ over here!"  
Charlie laughed, grabbing her wand before it rolled into the lake. "Be careful!"  
"Oops, _hic, _I just thought it was me...when you said you'd rather be with a friend than a girl, _hic_... And I didn't even know if I disagreed...It's so silly."  
Nova wiped her eyes, sighing, resting back on her hands. She gazed across the lake towards the mountains, her laughter petering out to a chuckle. "_Hic..._So silly."  
She wasn't being silly, not really. He knew he'd been feeling exactly the same way, for a while, and never acted on it, because to risk their friendship for something he wasn't even sure about...well. It wasn't worth it.  
But looking at her now, tucking her chin into her shoulder, her feet swishing back and forth, her body rocked by each hiccup. It made him grin. Her back curved like a crescent moon, the moonlight shone a silvery light on her face and the textures of her dress. It was easier when he thought of her as a creature to study.  
He blew his breath out, looking at his feet.  
"You look really beautiful."

Nova smiled to herself, looking away, feeling weird, feeling happy, feeling like she could say or do anything now and it didn't matter. For once, she wasn't thinking about anything later than now.  
She nudged his shoulder with hers, chanced looking at him. "See? It doesn't have to be hard."  
He smirked, his eyes looking darker in the light, seeming to reason with himself. For once, he didn't have to ask her what she was talking about. "It's not weird?"  
"Telling your friend she looks nice when _hic_ -damnit- she so clearly does?" she teased.  
Charlie gazed at her, serious all of a sudden. His eyes fell towards her shoulders, her body, her back. Her breath hitched in her throat as he raised his hand, painfully slowly, as if he were trying to stop himself. She found the hiccups paused in anticipation as his hand passed beyond her sightline, and she held her breath.  
_What are you doing what are you doing but I want to  
_Charlie had no concept of tomorrow, or of later on. Everything had narrowed to just this moment. It was like his body was a broom and the broom was flying where it wanted. His thoughts were silent. He knew it should have been weird, or at least, had expected it to be, but his limbs felt like water, his head as clear as the lake on a good day, and he was just swimming, and everything was alright, because even if it was weird, it made sense. In this moment, there was nothing yelling _no_, nothing pulling him back, nobody watching. He still couldn't look at her though, not directly, so he just stared at the curve of her back as he watched his hand reach out independently of his body and tenderly brush her skin, something like dragon fire rushing through his veins. His fingertips traced the vertebrae of her spine, as if he were studying the wings of a dragon. For once, he was just absolutely concerned with her form, and nothing else. She was soft, and the small tiny hairs on her skin raised at his touch.  
"Is _this_ weird?"  
His fingertips felt a little rough, but she didn't mind. She shook her head, compressing a shiver.  
She just couldn't read him, his eyes had gone blank, like when he was flying, or studying something with Kettleburn. She wasn't even sure if he could hear her. She took the opportunity to look at his face, it being so close. Freckles peppering every atom of his skin so he almost looked completely tanned, his long, reddish blonde eyelashes, the wide smiling face she'd grown up with that had grown into something stronger and assured. Noticed his mouth in more detail, the odd hair he'd missed shaving around the corners. Something flipped in her belly, thinking of the boy she'd met on this very lake years ago, to the young man in front of her, his eyes on her back, still, as he traced his fingers up and down her spine. Her stomach felt warm.  
He glanced up at her, seemed to wake from his reverie, and slowly and thoughtfully tucked a hair behind her ear.

"Not weird?"  
"I don't know...I don't mind it, I don't think," she said in a small voice.  
There was a moment, crystalline and shining, that he might have kissed her, that he looked unashamedly into her eyes, but it cracked under the pressure, and his hand returned to his lap and his gaze out to the lake, a soft smile on his face.  
What was he thinking? What was going on in that brain? If there had been a moment, that should have been it! The thought of just, extending her reach, just a tendril of enquiry, tempted her in a way it had never before. The lines between what was right and wrong seemed to blur, and what remained was the naked curiosity that couldn't be quelled. She hiccuped again, shaking herself, not for the first time that day, holding fast to her resolve, knowing to do anything less was a path she didn't want to go down. But patience wasn't her strong suit.

Charlie stared ahead over the water, gathering momentum. The moment was there, in his head, he just surged forward, he did it, and then he thought, what if it was rubbish? What if she realised it _was_ weird? What if it was, for both of them, and they could never be friends again?  
"Charlie?"  
He turned towards her. She'd pulled out the firewhisky from her bag and shook the bottle at him.  
"Sure, why not?"  
They both took a swig from the bottle, more numb to its strength than before, blowing the smoke from their mouths in soft plumes, a little less wound up than before, too.  
"Do you think you like me? As in…" Nova fiddled with the bottle, doing her best to seem casual. Charlie gulped. "...More than…"  
The hot sensation of the firewhisky sent hot tendrils through his stomach and down into his extremities. "Do you?"  
Nova smiled, inhaled deeply. "I asked you first."  
Charlie just looked at her. Did he have to say it? Did he know how?  
The moment stretched, bent and warped. He was pulled in by it, pushed away by it, her eyes dark, they were just shapes on the end of a dock, and after they'd have to walk away, back to the castle where the faint waves of music were rippling outwards, and then what? Do they start holding hands? Would everyone make a thing of it? He'd have nowhere to go if it didn't work out, nobody to talk to. She was his only real friend, he was bound to-  
And then her lips brushed his, softly, decidedly, like an exploration of the senses rather than a kiss. Frozen, feeling her warm breath on his mouth, eyes open, her eyelashes tickling his cheek. He met her lips with his, not sure if it was because he wanted to or that it'd be rude not to, but in another narrowing of focus, it didn't seem to matter, in the grand scheme of things. He suddenly couldn't think of anything else than her mouth on his, anything he wanted more than to keep feeling that sensation. He closed his eyes, applying a little more pressure, feeling her exhalation on his face, and then he felt the soft warmth of her inner lips on his, and his hand, knowingly and unknowingly, reached up to her back, feeling the prickling of a shiver on her skin, and felt that fire spread through him again, and something quickened, his resolve hardening...

Nova watched his eyes close and met him there in that dark space so she could only feel his lips, the very light stubble around his mouth, thrilled, happy, excited. His nose pushed against hers, a little cold at the end, the softness of his face against hers, and knew, in that unlocking, that it _wasn't_ weird, this felt too _right_. She felt him kiss back, and she responded. She felt them both relax, their minds emptying, and there was an opening, a further unlocking, where her guard weakened, her mind reached across and she blindly felt his cautiousness, his enjoyment, his relief, and a rush of blood. It was only when she sensed a firm resistance, and all she felt was her own emotions again, that she'd realised what she'd done, and they both pulled away at the same time.  
Charlie shuffled, arranging his dress-robe, looking at her with furrowed brows. Nova looked at him in what felt like the same way, knowing even without legilimens that he felt ashamed. Even in the dark, past his freckles, she could see him blushing.  
"What did you just do?" he asked.  
A memory from her first year came hurtling back to her, and shame swept over her too like a shroud.  
"I didn't mean-"  
"You can't do that, to me-"  
"I know, I'm sorry, I...Wait, do you know Occlumency?"

Charlie looked down, feeling the anger emanating from him and crawled to get up, fidgeting with his bloody robe. "Nova, it's just...I can't believe-"  
"Where are you going?"  
"I don't think...I don't want to do this."  
Nova's face fell, became stony, then she narrowed her eyes, and he knew he was in for it.  
"Do you know Occlumency?!"  
He tried not to fidget, but it was in his blood. "It's not nice having someone in your head, it's embarrassing, it's-"  
"Did you learn because of me?" Nova asked, a voice too low and creaking not to break.  
"Look, it's not that I don't trust you-"  
"If you trusted me Charlie, you wouldn't have learned it,"  
"And how was I supposed to know you wouldn't use it on me?" he asked recklessly, looking down at her. He saw the hurt on her face, her voice barely a whisper.  
"Because I'm your best friend."

Charlie felt so upset about this, that his only reaction was anger. Anger at himself, anger that he was so insecure, so scared all of the time. "But you used it! Just now! Don't you know how much of an idiot that makes me feel?"  
"Oh yes, your life is just _so_ difficult," Nova spoke bitterly, grabbing her wand from his hand. He'd forgotten he'd been holding it. She stood up, facing him.  
"What exactly does that mean?"  
Nova groaned and threw her arms in the air. "_What does that mean? What do you mean? I can't possibly understand what you mean!_ Charlie, you know exactly what we all bloody mean but you're too lazy to say it yourself! Perfect prefect, quidditch captain, I don't know _anyone_ who doesn't like you, but you're always asking, always the victim,"  
The heat hit his face like a full fire. "Victim? Nova you've been feeling sorry for yourself since we started at Hogwarts! You isolate yourself from everyone! You complain you never see me but you don't make the effort for anyone but yourself! Look at your dress Nova, it's brand new. I live in a bloody ramshackle of a-"  
"Oh it's so _hard_ being pureblood, it's so _hard_ being so noble! At least I try with the people who try with me, Charlie, it just so happens everyone else thinks I'm a freak!" Nova's voice finally broke and tears spilled from her eyes, her breath puffing in and out as if it was the last thing she wanted to do than to let him see her cry.  
"Maybe that's because they don't trust you."  
The words left his mouth before he could stop himself. He didn't mean it that way. Her face was heartbroken. But he felt betrayed, wasn't his anger justified too?  
Their grievances hung stubbornly in the air between their defences like fire smoke. Nova sobbed in the sticky summer air. She glanced up at the castle where there was cheering and the faint sound of music. Her face twisted, speaking in a broken whisper, her hand clenched tightly around her wand. "I was having a really good time."

If he hadn't occluded his thoughts, what would she have seen?  
"How far would you have gone?"  
"Charlie, I told you, I didn't do it on purpose, I just lost focus-"  
She was really crying now, he had to keep looking elsewhere. "If that's what'd happen every time we'd...Then it's obviously not such a good idea, is it?"  
"Are you serious?"  
"Serious about what?"  
Nova rolled her eyes so heavily that he felt as if the earth moved. She sighed as if that had been a chance he'd completely missed. "You wouldn't even let me try?"  
Charlie knew it wasn't just the Legilimens. When he thought about..._trying_, and whatever that meant, he felt sick, his mouth dried up, he felt so suddenly exhausted and sick that the idea of hiding in the corner of the prefects bathroom where nobody could bother him, ever, seemed more appealing than anything, but blaming the Legilimens...felt easier.  
"It's not a good idea. You know it isn't."  
Nova's hand clenched ever tighter around her wand, Charlie unsure if she was begging or threatening him. "I would never, ever, use it on you. I promise."  
"It doesn't matter," he shook his head, starting to turn away.  
"_So why did you kiss me back?!"_

Years later, when he recalled that moment, he'd imagine he turned back around, held her hand, reassured her, promised that even if it wasn't a great idea now, maybe he could work through his fear _one_ day, and even if that day never happened, they'd always be friends, and nothing else mattered. That even though he felt hurt and embarrassed, and a fool, it didn't matter as long as they were friends, because he knew deep down that she would never truly hurt him. _I'm always your friend. Even if it gets weird._

And even now, having grown a beard, muscle mass, a vague collection of experiences with women that never quite amounted to anything at all, facing down deadly creatures every day, the lesson that vulnerability was strength was hard-taught. Nova had always been vulnerable, had, despite her downfalls (that were more similar to his than anyone else's), always loved those closest to her. Recalling that memory in the clarity of what he'd learned, of what his Dad told him, was like looking in a freshwater pool, and seeing everything clearly for the first time. It didn't feel good.

Instead, Charlie Weasley would watch his biggest Horntail look at him threateningly over a cluster of eggs, smoke curling from nostrils the size of a fireplace, with little to no fear, and recall how he said nothing, nothing at all, because he was scared of letting his guard down for another _person_. He'd remember how he'd imagined the Sanctuary where he could hide, promise himself just one more year, and he could avoid her forever, playing the scene over and over in his head, even as he reached the steps back to the castle. Convincing himself that he was doing the right thing. He knew now, watching the Horntail tense and build flame in the back of her throat, that he had done the easier thing. It wasn't his trust that had to be won, it was hers, and he had betrayed her completely by walking away, leaving her with nothing but a pile of cornflakes.


End file.
